


A Pilot’s Life For Me

by StreetSolo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Order, Flirting, Fluff, Funny, Getting to Know Each Other, Humor, Male-Female Friendship, Mechanics, Moral Ambiguity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Outer Space, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Plot, Politics, Pre-TFA, Reader-Insert, Resistance, Romance, Royalty, Sarcasm, Sexual Tension, Smut, Snark, Space Flight, Technical, Trust Issues, piloting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2018-11-30 01:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 220,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11453145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StreetSolo/pseuds/StreetSolo
Summary: After your mother, the Queen of Draboon, makes a substantial financial contribution to the Resistance in order to aid them in their skirmish against the First Order, they return the favor by letting you, her only daughter and heir to the throne of Draboon, take flight lessons from none other than the esteemed Commander of the Resistance Starfighters Corps, Poe Dameron. But will you be safe with the Resistance, or will you find yourself and your peaceful planet getting dragged into a war that neither of you are ready for?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I choose fantasy to vent, to process complex political, sexual and social politics at the safe distance of fiction."  
> -Natalie Dormer

               “I should never have let you talk me into this.”

               It’s everything you can do not to roll your eyes. You had heard that one before. In fact, you had heard it so many times throughout your life that you had stopped trying to keep count.

               You can hear the exasperation in your mother’s voice, but her facial features remain relatively impassive as she stares out the crystalline glass beside her. There’s nothing to see out the window but the constant swirl of the hyperspace vortex and the stolid darkness of space beyond it, but she seems intent to direct her vision towards the distant planets that seemed to float in the murky dark waters of space than turn to face you directly.

               “You are aiding the Resistance,” you remind her in as patient a voice as you can muster. “They are simply repaying the debt that they owe you.”

               Your mother was the Queen of Draboon, and as such, she maintained a firm monopoly on the trade of the beautiful blue lapis stones that your home planet naturally produced. While the gems were a beauty in and of themselves, you knew lapis to also have extensive commercial properties, such as constructing tabletops and other domestic furnishings. While you found that use too mundane for so pretty a thing, you could not deny that people did indeed need tables, for all manners of things, and as such it was never really much of a concern that the demands for lapis would ever diminish.

               Your planet’s supply did not appear to be dwindling any time soon, minus the few times your mother claimed it had been merely to reap the rewards of the foreseeable inflation. The economy, she had told you, was meant to be manipulated, meant to keep certain people on top, and you just agreed with her, like you always did, because she was the Queen, and no one had the authority to rebuke her. As such, she had developed a high opinion of herself, and her sentiments towards a particular matter, more often than not, were usually enacted without much of a challenge from her slavish Council. Fortunately, you had more than enough sense to avail to her ego in order to get what you wanted.

               As her only daughter, you had been raised with the expectation that you would eventually take over for her and become Queen in your own right, but quite frankly, you found the semantics surrounding your coronation to be quite boring. In fact, the whole affair bored you. It seemed that politics had become more about false flattery than anything else, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about any sort of diplomatic traditions or bother with remembering the proper way to dress for festivities and special occasions. Your mother herself picked over your hairstyle and wardrobe for as long as you could remember, and of course she spent more than just a few government credits in order to maintain her own lavish appearance. She insisted that this was a necessity to keep people firm in the belief that the stores of Draboon’s wealth were practically overflowing, but if Draboon truly had amassed such a large sum, you couldn’t see why that money wasn’t being invested back to the people. You were fortunate, of course, that Draboon was a peaceful world, where there was very little in the way of poverty or sickness or crime, but you were almost more than sure that whatever your mother spent on her hair in a day could feed the poorest family on Draboon for at least a week.

               You weren’t sure where your idealism came from, certainly not your mother, at any rate, but you wanted to do something that would give back to others, to help others that needed to be helped, and as luck or fate would have it, that opportunity came when a Resistance fighter visited your planet in the hopes of securing some kind of financial assistance to help them in their struggle against the First Order. Your mother had been notable acquaintances with Leia Organa when she had served on the Galactic Senate, and your mother had often met with her when she travelled to Hosnian Prime. As such, Leia knew of your mother’s vanity, and she knew just how to get what she needed from her. Apparently there were rumors that Leia had left the New Republic behind and started a military alliance of her own from the seeds of the Alliance that she had once served in, founding a new coalition called the Resistance with the single goal of wiping out the First Order. However, the Resistance was short on funds and supplies, and so Leia had apparently sent her best, Commander Poe Dameron of the Starfighter Corps, in order to convince your mother to lend her support and help aid them in this conflict.

               This was something that you wanted to help with immediately. You had heard stories of the terrors that Leia’s son, Ben Solo, had caused, although he had left that name behind him and abandoned his face in favor of a mask when he joined forces with the First Order and became Kylo Ren. You didn’t know the intricate details as to why he had turned against his own family, although in the back of your mind, you could imagine that if Leia Organa was as insufferable as your own mother, you might be tempted to commit treason yourself. You had only met Leia a few times and she had seemed kind to you, but then again, you knew politicians to be primarily focused on keeping up appearances, and you had no idea what she was truly like when no one else was watching.

               Regardless, Kylo Ren and the First Order itself was notorious for wiping out dozens of villages, killing every man, woman and child in their thirst to take control of the resources that they needed in order to aid their campaign. While Draboon currently sat safely out of the conflict, it was a growing concern that they could possibly strike your planet next. As such, you had convinced your mother to let Commander Dameron plead his case, and as you sat at her side and listened, you knew at once why Leia Organa had sent this man in particular. He had a personable air about him, an ease with which he spoke as he moved his hands in time to his words, emphasizing certain points over others. He was articulate but not overly formal, colloquial without being brash, friendly without being overzealous and impassioned without being frantic. It also helped that he was devilishly handsome, with thick dark hair and brown eyes to match.

               While you listened to his impassioned plea, you couldn’t help but look him over. He _was_ handsome, and yet something about the way his lips pulled at the corners and his eyes crinkled that made him seem more approachable than you otherwise would have gathered. As he spoke, he looked about the room, letting his eyes rest momentarily on one person before they swung along to the next. As he gazed in your direction, your traitorous face refused to hide the flush that ever so delicately graced the top of your cheeks.

               Regardless, his gaze always drifted back to your mother at the end of each punctuated sentence, implicitly knowing that the weight of the decision rested not with Draboon’s Council, but with her, as Leia had most likely warned him. Regardless, after he had had his say, your mother sent him out of the room to complete the illusion that she was going to confer with them, letting the guards shut the door behind him as the Council made their way from the sides of the Hall where they lined up in front of her, each awaiting their turn to speak.   

               The Council comprised of four humans from Draboon, although three were from the upper echelons of society and one was a spoiled elected that had originally been selected by the will of the people, in order for them to think that there was someone in Draboon’s government that represented their best interests. The last two were diplomatic representatives from other planets, who had the responsibility of making sure that Draboon’s image of economic wealth and stability went unsullied. As such, they deemed it only a responsible course of action to provide the Resistance with the funds that they requested, and then some, knowing that a publicized effort to keep the galaxy safe would be looked upon favorably by the neighboring planetary bodies, who also feared the growing threat of the First Order. The humans on the Council, however, were divided, concerned by what action the First Order might take if they happened to learn that Draboon was financing an enemy alliance.

               At that point, you had pointed out that the First Order’s true enemy, first and foremost, was the New Republic, and that if the First Order did ever happen to receive word of your involvement with the Resistance, that they could be paid off as well. It would be a dangerous game, to be sure, financing both sides, but you were confident that the threat of the First Order would be contained and eliminated within your lifetime. You had been born shortly after the Battle of Endor, and as such, you had no memory of the Empire or the insidious legacy of Darth Vader and the Death Star. You had been entertained by those stories as a child, but it had never truly affected you the way that this skirmish threatened to. War seemed to press upon you on all sides, but if you truly did have the wealth that your mother boasted of, then there was no reason why you couldn’t use that wealth to afford protection.

               Your mother remained unusually undecided on the matter. She felt that it was in the better interests of all to finance the Resistance, and yet she was dubious about their claim to come to Draboon’s aid if the First Order ever did arrive on your doorstep. Their base on D’Qar was quite a ways away, and by the time they received word of an impending attack and had enough time to mobilize their forces, you and your planet would surely have been ravaged of all its resources by then, your people slaughtered and the future of Draboon in shambles.

               No, if your mother was going to provide them with aid, she wanted them to provide her with something more, something tangible, although Draboon had more than enough wealth and the Resistance had nothing much to offer besides their select skill set. Therefore, it had been your idea to go back to the Resistance base with him, to serve as a diplomatic envoy of sorts, to report back on all matters the Resistance should be involved in. Your mother was quick to dismiss the idea, citing that you were far too important to Draboon’s future to send away, but there was no one else who could be trusted with a task of this importance. She was concerned, however, about leaving you on a military base without any means of defense or escape, and so you had requested to learn how to pilot a ship for yourself, so that you would be able to leave the planet if such a threat ever arose.

               In truth, piloting even a simple shuttle was something you had always wanted to learn since you were a child. When your mother used to take you along with her on trips to Hosnian Prime, you always loved the feeling of freedom and adventure that you associated with space, loved the adrenaline that spiked in your blood whenever the ship took off from the planet’s atmosphere and launched into hyperspace. It was a rush that you could never get enough of, but of course your mother deemed it an unnecessary skill to learn when you could simply hire pilots to shuttle you to wherever it was that you needed to go. It took over an hour to convince her, and you were almost concerned that Commander Dameron had simply gotten tired of waiting and left, but he seemed more than patient when he was escorted back inside to hear your mother’s counter proposal.

               She said that she would provide him with double the amount requested, and while you expected him to be surprised by such a large financial contribution, his face remained impassive as he waited to hear what else she wanted in exchange. That was when she had asked for, in addition to the Resistance’s promise of protection, a place for her daughter at the Resistance as well, combined with piloting instruction from no one but Commander Dameron himself.

 _That_ had surprised him, as he raised his eyebrows and dipped his head forward in contemplation, and while that had not been added at your specific request, you could only assume it natural for your mother to want you to learn from the best if you insisted on this venture. You did, although it turned out to be more of a complicated dealing than you thought. Commander Dameron said he would have to clear the additional specifications of your arrangement with General Organa, and he returned home to the Resistance while you sat by for weeks, ignorant of the transmissions that were going back and forth that specifically outlined the details of the arrangement. Finally, though, the itinerary had been approved by both parties, and you were officially allowed to travel to D’Qar. You had been excited at the prospect of leaving Draboon’s atmosphere for the first time yourself, but your mother insisted on accompanying you to see the Resistance base with her own eyes. It was a fair agreement, considering how much of Draboon’s funds were being channeled into their pockets, but you couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed nonetheless, knowing she was probably going to chide your decision the entire trip there.

               You had been right, and her first comment had only been the unfortunate beginning to what would soon prove to be a very long trip.

               “You are too old to be chasing these childish fantasies,” she continues. “I know you find flying to be a trip, but it is dangerous in its own right. Must I remind you that you are the only heir to Draboon? You must carry out its legacy; it rests solely on your shoulders.”

               “And of course there is no way I can be daunted under that kind of pressure,” you reply evenly. The corner of her upper lip lifts as her eyes dart to appraise you, before her glance travels back out the window.

               “This is the destiny you were born for,” she reminds you, as if she hadn’t repeated those same words to you almost every day since you had learned how to speak. “I should never have let you talk me into this. At least it will only be for eight weeks. Then when you get back, we can consider your options as I work to find you a suitable husband.”

               “Mother.” Your voice is deadpan as you narrow your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you slump back into your seat like a petulant child. “You know I refuse to have this conversation. _If_ I find a husband, I will do so under my own terms.”

               “You are too young to know the best qualities in a man,” she says, and you roll your neck to the side on reflex, stretching out the muscles that creaked from being held stiff from the discomfort of this conversation. You hated the paradox that she had set up for you: too old to follow your dreams, and yet too young to know anything of the world. Your mother exercised control in all things, and your life was no exception.

               “My ideal partner would be good at heart,” you tell her. “He would be wise and learned in academic affairs, capable of making sage decisions about Draboon’s exports while still humble enough to seek advice from the Council whenever such a situation arose. He would be patient with me, and gentle, never raising his voice, and he would be a good father to the child I would be inevitably forced to bear.”

               Your mother laughs, but it’s a dry laugh that lacks all humor as she simply shakes her head from side to side. “You are far too idealistic.”

               “You would notice I didn’t list handsome as one of his many favorable qualities,” you add, your eyes flashing in the synthetic light of the shuttle. “Although it would certainly help, it is by no means a mandate.”

               Your mother just shakes her head again, her hairstyle bouncing with each turn of her neck. “Then you are foolish. People flock to those they find attractive, listen to their advice more readily, and are quicker to take commands from someone they secretly admire.” You tilt your head to the side in consideration, but let out a stiff exhale from your nostrils to show your disapproval nonetheless. She had a point, and you could see it, but that didn’t mean you would like it or admit to it. As insufferable as she could be, she did see many things that you could not, as difficult as that was to admit to. “In any case, you will require my help in selecting a husband, and I can assure you that he will be better than my first ever was.”

               Your mother had been married a grand total of three times. The first one had been arranged by her father, who had passed away before you were born, and judging by how little she spoke of him, you assumed that she had not been very happy with him, or perhaps he with her. Either way, his life ended no more than a few months after her father died, and she had married another man within the year. He had tried and failed to produce any heirs with her, and after three or four years, he met an accidental death that you weren’t quite sure was all that accidental, the way your mother told the story with a casual sigh that seemed more of pity than of sorrow, the way her shoulders seemed to shrug with an attitude that said _it simply had to be done._

               She had married one last time to another man, your father, who had been killed in an attack on the Senate building in Coruscant when you were barely a year old. However, your mother had now had a child, gotten her heir, and seemed to close the gate on the prospect of marriage to anyone else. You had not seen her with anyone in all your years beside her, although that was hardly of any surprise considering just how little you saw her. You had been raised by a nanny that took to your physical needs, and had thus been counseled and tutored in a variety of subjects your mother saw fit for you to know. Your education had been textbook and tedious, teaching you about political affairs and the history of the galaxy without teaching you worldly skills necessary for defense or even leisure. Recreational affairs, your mother deemed, were unfit for someone of royal stature, and so you resigned yourself to your fate of following in her footsteps, using only bitter sarcasm to oppose her when the occasion called for it, your last bit of respite of holding onto the last bit of individual dignity that was not tied up in the future of Draboon.

               “I will naturally put aside my own self-interests for the good of our planet, of course,” you tell her, although this statement had slipped out of your mouth so easily you no longer had to put any thought behind the words. At first you had wrestled with simply submitting yourself to this fate, but you had since decided that it was just easier to appease her than to argue, especially in a conversation where it was all but impossible to gain the upper hand. Instead, you sought small victories where you could take them, and this brief respite from Draboon was one of the largest you had ever received.

               “Yes, well.” Your mother clearly has nothing to say to this as she adjusts herself in her narrow seat. “Just know that your behavior with the Resistance is a reflection not only of me, but of the entirety of our planet. Most of the people you will meet not only have probably never set foot on Draboon, but they may know nothing of our planet aside from our chief exports. You are to set the best example that you can in order to strengthen our ties to the Resistance, should we ever find ourselves in need of their aid.”

               “Of course, Mother,” you reply, but she scarcely seems to hear you as she continues.

               “General Organa.” Your mother shakes her head, as if displeased as to how that name sounded to her ears. “I’m sure you remember that Princess Leia happens to be royalty herself. It’s a shame that I never was able to visit her on her home planet before its destruction preceded the turmoil of the Empire, but I suppose that’s in the past.” She turns to face you directly now as she narrows her gaze. “She will most assuredly be watching your behavior. Each breach of etiquette will be duly noted, and every success will go unnoticed as it befits your royal status. It would do you well to remember that.”

               “I will, Mother,” you reply dutifully, although if your memory served you correctly, Leia was much less concerned with formalities and traditions than your mother was. You could imagine that she would care less about her royal status given that she had forsaken her title as Princess to adopt the role of General, and a part of you was almost excited to think that she might disregard your royal status and treat you as just another person. Your mother would be quite displeased to hear it, but you often wondered what it would be like to be just another one of the nameless renegade volunteers, fighting for a cause that they believed in so strongly that they would lay down their very lives to give it even half a chance at succeeding.

               You can tell that she is about to say more, but fortunately for you, the Captain of the Guard chooses this moment to walk in. He’s wearing his full ceremonial armor now, a copper-inlaid beskar breastplate over a long blue rode. You can’t help but notice that he’s not wearing his ceremonial helmet, which secretly pleased you. The thing made him, made _anyone_ , look ridiculous, and it was one tradition that you would certainly do away with once you became Queen and got to make such decisions for yourself.

               “Pardon me, Your Majesty, but we have just come out of hyperspace and we are on final approach to D’Qar. Resistance Control sent their apologies in advance, saying they will have to park us at the outdoor cargo staging area since their hangars are too small to accommodate our cruiser, and their capital docking area is still under construction. Thankfully, the local weather is projected to be clear once we make planetfall. I’ll leave you to your preparations.”

               “Very well, Colonel,” your mother says, and he ducks out with a small nod.

               “Best get ready,” she says to you before she gets to her feet and heads off to her quarters to put the finishing touches on her royal finery. You sigh and reluctantly head off to do the same, silently thankful that you wouldn’t be forced to keep up with these outlandish costumes at the Resistance base. Thankfully, as the Princess, you had no obligation whatsoever to wear the ridiculous plate collar, tight hair curls and multiple heavy lapis pendants that were the traditional mark of Draboon’s Queen. Your only requirement was keeping your hair dyed the deep blue shade of lapis, which you didn’t mind terribly, as it had been routinely dyed that shade since you were a child. You could hardly remember a time when you weren’t looking out at the world from behind your crisp blue bangs.

               Looking through your wardrobe, you select a simple green undershirt and a blue tunic. Your mother had tried to force you to pack the ceremonial garb of a princess, but you had opposed her, pointing out that the base on D’Qar was an active military installation, and as a diplomatic guest, it would be unbecoming to constantly be drawing unnecessary attention to yourself. You were there to represent Draboon, not hold court, and while your mother opposed this arrangement, she eventually came to realize that she would not be able to dictate your dress while you were on D’Qar and left you to your own devices. Your outfit was simple, yes, but at least it kept with the traditional royal color scheme.

               Outside the small room that served as your makeshift quarters, you heard the unmistakable crash of the steel helmets of the honor guards, followed by a brief commotion. You immediately open the door and walk outside to see two of the guards sprawled on the floor of the quarterdeck, their helmets flung off and their staffs lying on the ground nearby. From appearances alone, it almost looked as though the two had clipped each other with their ridiculous wide-edged ceremonial helmets your mother stubbornly continued to require for court functions.

               “Is everything all right in here, Colonel?”

               “Not yet, your Highness, but it will be shortly. Just ironing out the kinks in the ceremonial planetfall procession, that’s all. It’s been too long since your mother had us visit another planet, and the honor guard has been reconstituted since then.” He pauses for a moment as he looks you up and down, seeing as how you were just about ready to go.

               “Your Highness, do you mind standing here to aid with rehearsal?” He points to a spot in the middle of the other four guards, and you dip your head forward before you obediently walk over to the spot where he had pointed. The other two guards quickly rise from the floor and retrieve their helmets and staffs before they take their place by the ship’s ramp.

               The Captain walks around the men, checking to make sure that their helmets were spaced a great enough distance apart to ensure that another collision would not happen. Once he appeared satisfied, he takes his position behind you and takes a deep breath before he begins.

               “Honor Guard, mark time, march.”

               From all around you, the guards begin marching in place, and you hear a quick stutter to their steps before they sync up, alternating feet rising and falling in one staccato rhythm that was more customary of their anticipated rank.

               “Forward, march.”

               The guards begin advancing towards the ramp, helmets spaced too close together for your liking. In fact, you have to make sure that you walk forward in time to their formation just to avoid being hit in the back of the head by the helmets worn by the last two guards in the procession. As they approach the door to the ramp, they go back to marching in place as if on cue. Up to this point, you had seen them do a similar maneuver whenever your mother held court, but you had a feeling something different was to be anticipated on D’Qar, and you were not going to find yourself disappointed.

               “Honor Guard, gauntlet, cut!”

               The group immediately stops before they turn towards the center, moving down the line from back to front, their helmets swinging out of the way and lining the path. Once the front two guards had turned to face inward, there’s a loud crack above your head, and you duck down as the next two pairs flip their staffs up and across.

_Crack crack._

You turn to look at the Captain, and he makes a small motion to get out of the formation. You quickly back out to stand beside him, just in case they repeat their earlier mistake while you’re in the middle of the formation. You could only imagine how your mother would react to seeing you standing there amongst the guards with a bloody gash above your forehead. While you had no doubt she would first and foremost be concerned with how much blood had accidentally dribbled over your clothes, you could honestly see her being tempted to just call the whole thing off, and that was not a chance that you wanted to take.

               “Honor Guard, secure arms.”

               All at once, the guards twist their staffs as they lower them, clashing with their opposite’s staff twice before planting the end of their staff between their feet and holding them vertically with both hands, arms tensed as if to lash out at a moment’s notice. It was an impressive display, of course, if they could complete it without knocking into each other again. At least in your view, mistakes were fine in practice, but you knew your mother would be mortified if she happened to find out that the guards still hadn’t gotten their routine down to a perfectly synchronized sequence just before you were about to land and perform the display for real. If they happened to make such a mistake in front of Leia and her present company, well, you didn’t want to think about how your mother might react, or what would become of the guards.

               “Thank you, your Highness, I believe their mistake has been corrected. We will be landing shortly.” You just nod your head as you walk back to your cramped quarters, the Captain’s voice echoing behind you as you retreat. “Honor Guard, fall out. Reassemble in five minutes for planetfall.”

               As you wait to make your final descent into D’Qar’s atmosphere, you suddenly feel almost homesick with anticipation. You had never been allowed out without an escort before, and even then, the trips around your planet were infrequent due to the enormity of planning such a security detailing to make sure that nothing happened to you. Nothing ever _did_ , but then again, the security had always been there to discourage anyone from attempting to harm you in any way. Now, you were going to be all alone on a relatively unknown base, far away from your home planet and whatever support they could provide. All you had to protect yourself was your wits and your family’s name in order to get you out of any situations that might arise.

               Though, in truth, you couldn’t say that you weren’t at least a little excited to see what this experience could offer you. This would be the first time out on your own, which meant that you were going to have to rely on yourself to get you through whatever challenges you faced, and you’d be lying if you weren’t at least a little eager to see in just what ways you would be tested in, and how you would come out stronger for it. Not to mention, you knew you were going to be Queen of Draboon someday, there was no way that you weren’t, and you were excited to gain some new experiences and perspectives that you hadn’t otherwise considered. The Resistance drew in volunteers from all over the galaxy, all with different backgrounds and levels of expertise in different areas, and not only could you use their training to improve your own knowledge, but you could also learn to appreciate the struggles that other planets faced on a galactic scale, which would no doubt be beneficial to your own reign someday.

               Suddenly the door opens, and you find your mother standing outside, wearing her high, flaring collar plates, hair pins, and signature lapis pendants. By contrast, the simplicity of your own outfit almost made you seem like one of her handmaidens instead of her daughter. Your pale blue tunic looked much more faded standing next to her, combined with the simple white belt around your middle that was imprinted with Draboon’s blue thunderbird seal on its left side. As your mother looks you over, she opens her mouth and shuts it again, as if deciding just which element of your wardrobe she wanted to pick apart first.

               “I know it seems simple,” you begin appeasingly. “But the members of the Resistance won’t dress for style. I’m already going to stand out there with my blue hair, and I don’t want to draw any more attention to myself than I’m already going to.”

               “Yes, well.” Your mother straightens out the front of her gown. “As it is, we don’t have time for you to change now. We’re almost to the receiving dock. Come.”

               The shuttle lands, and as you stand off to the side with your mother, the ship’s exit unseals as the outer ramp lowers to reveal the tarmac of D’Qar’s outer hangar. The captain takes his place where you had stood a short time ago, and begins ordering his troops out the door and down the ramp in the same formation that they had practiced earlier. Outside, you can hear the rhythmic stamp of their boots as the guards stopped, followed by a series of cracks as their staffs collided with one another. You wished that you could watch their performance for real, and not just their less than stellar rehearsal, but your mother insisted you stay out of sight with her until it was time to be seen as a matter of proper decorum.

               Finally, you hear it.

               The cue.

               You hated the cue with a passion that was almost difficult to describe. You didn’t necessarily like being the center of attention, didn’t like it when all eyes in the room were on you, and yet when the cue was announced, you knew that anyone and everyone would be watching you intently, making immediate judgements about the kind of person you were by the way you looked, by the way you held yourself, by the way you greeted others. You had already been tutored in all the right ways to behave in a great variety of social situations, had already been forced to rehearse them one after another, as if you were putting on a show and the world was your captivated audience.

               You didn’t like playing pretend. You didn’t like how your social graces were more a part of deception than actual pleasantries, but as your mother often informed you, this was simply the way you were expected to behave.

               “Presenting the Azure Duchess, her Serene Royal Majesty, Queen Lyri of Draboon.”

               You head around the corner and down the ramp with your mother, where you’re greeted by the sight of a red carpet extended down between two large shipping crates to the edge of the ramp, flanked by the staff gauntlet of the Honor Guard. Ahead, you can see another gauntlet of soldiers lining the carpet, wearing the blue shirt, black pants, and domed white helmets you recognized as the historical uniform of the Alderaanian Honor Guard. Even though their planet had been destroyed, the Alderaan race was still very much alive, and it seemed at least a few of their old traditions and uniforms had survived the planet’s destruction as well.

               At the end of the narrow carpet, standing in a doorway set into the side of a large mound, is a woman with a high bun atop her head in a simple dark blue dress. You recognized her immediately as Leia Organa. Standing beside her were a few other people, although your eyes immediately shot to a familiar face, the pilot, Commander Poe Dameron, this time wearing a black Starfighter officer’s uniform with a blue trim. Among those standing by her was also a Calamari wearing a plain white tunic, and an older New Republic Starfleet officer, a captain, judging by the marks on his uniform.

               Once you reach the end of the carpet, your mother announces you by your name, repeating the fact that you are the princess of Draboon, a fact that has not escaped the knowledge of anyone there on the dock. “Lyri, it’s been too long,” Leia says as she and your mother exchange a formal handshake, but there was something in her face, in her eyes, that almost seemed to indicate that however long it had been had not been nearly long enough. Regardless, her expression seems to soften somewhat as she turns to you. “And it’s been quite a while since I last saw you. You were but a child the last time you visited me last on Hosnian Prime.”

               “It’s good to see you again, Princess Leia,” you tell her as you give her a brief curtsy, one that you knew your mother would approve of. When you look back up, Leia is smiling, but one of the corners of her lips is turned down, as though this motion invoked a memory that was bittersweet.

               “I think Leia will do just fine during your stay,” she tells you as she motions to the others around her and begins introductions. She first introduces the Calamari as Gial Ackbar, retired Grand Admiral of the New Republic Starfleet, and the Starfleet Captain as Wedge Antilles, commanding officer of the cruiser _Liberty_ that was currently stationed just outside of D’Qar’s atmosphere. Finally, she stops as she gestures towards Poe. “And I believe you’ve already made the acquaintance of Commander Dameron, and he will show you to your quarters. My men will bring your things to you.”

               Poe offers you his arm with an amiable smile, and you try to suppress the blush on your cheeks as you take it. “First time away from home?” he asks, and you simply shrug your shoulders. Your mother had cautioned that shrugging was a motion that was considered unladylike, but admitting that this had been the first time on your own made you seem like a child, which you clearly were not. At least if you chose not to answer him verbally, your response could not be taken as an outright lie. Regardless, Poe chuckles as he seems to read the situation. “I understand how you feel. I felt the same way when I was leaving home for the first time, boarding the shuttle leaving Yavin Four to join the New Republic Starfleet. We’ll do everything we can to make you feel right at home here.”

               “Thanks,” you offer, your voice holding remarkably steady considering your nerves felt as though they were fraying at the edges.

               Poe gives you a quick nod to show that he had heard you before he turns towards a lower officer near him. “Lieutenant Dran, will you see to the Queen’s Honor Guard? I believe Sergeant’s Quarters Three has been prepared for them, and Captain Arana has offered his room to Colonel Hyse in his absence. Inform Colonel Ematt once they are settled.”

               The lieutenant offers him a quick salute before he heads off, but something about the motion doesn’t seem authentic to you. It seemed too forced, too rehearsed, and you were someone who knew something about forced procedures for the sake of appearances. Poe returns the salute, but you pay attention to the way the lieutenant dropped his salute before Poe did, something that would immediately be taken as a sign of disrespect that would no doubt be reprimanded. Something was clearly off, and you immediately suspected that this was an act to impress your mother more than anything else, and that formalities of this nature were not common on this base.

               As you walked down the hall with Poe, you couldn’t help but notice that even the dirt floors of the hallways on the way to your quarters had been freshly raked and smoothed, free of all footprints but your own. You supposed that your mother would also be walking down this way with Leia to exchange pleasantries and small talk and discuss the intricacies of their arrangement before she headed back to Draboon, and you could barely suppress the laugh at picturing her grimace when she saw that she would have to walk through a small dirt path before she reached the relative safety of the tiled hallways that marked the beginnings of the inner part of the base.

               You don’t walk for long when Poe suddenly stops in front of a plain metal door with a standard chip lock. “The General has business to discuss with your mother before she departs, so there will be time to see her off if you would like, after we get you situated. This will be your quarters for the duration of your stay here.” He pulls a datacard from his pocket and swipes it in front of the door lock before handing it to you. “This is your key. The General is the only other person who can access your quarters; she has a key to every room on this base.”

               Without waiting for you to reply, he steps inside, and you follow him into a large living room, lightly furnished with two sofas, a couple of tables, and a counter in the corner topped with a few small appliances. There were two doors on the back wall, which you assumed to be your bedroom and a storage room. As he opens the two doors, you can see that your assumptions were indeed correct. Through the door on the left, you spot the end of a bed and the corner of a door that was probably a bathroom, and through the door on your right, you saw a small room with a vertical stack of shelves.

               “My men will be along with your things shortly,” Poe says as he waits patiently in the living room for you to get a quick glance around your new home for the next eight weeks. “Is there anything else you need, Your Highness?” Involuntarily, you can’t help but grimace. This was not the _Blue Dawn_ , nor was this the palace of Draboon. The commander was not your subject, and unlike your mother, you tried to avoid calling attention to your royal background if you could help it.

               “Well, you could start by not calling me that,” you tell him, making sure to keep your voice light as you turn back to him. “I do have a name, and I request that you use it.” Poe opens his mouth as if to indicate that that wouldn’t be proper form, something you had already suspected. “Although if you don’t feel appropriate calling me as such, you may also call me Princess, but we are on D’Qar, not Draboon, and I want to be treated as such.”

               “Duly noted, Princess,” Poe replies, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, unable to erase the grin that slowly sweeps over your features.

               “Is there anything I need to do, Commander Dameron?” you counter, and Poe chuckles visibly at this.

               “Just one thing,” he replies succinctly. “Since we’ll be flying together quite a lot these next few months, I’ll go crazy if you keep calling me Commander. Just call me Poe.”

               “All right,” you reply, and you can’t help but gnaw on your lower lip as you nod your head forward in a series of quick, excited nods before you decide to taste his name for yourself.

_“Poe.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! My name is Krasava, AKA Streetsolo, and I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this story! I'm going to be releasing the story in weekly installments, most likely every Sunday night up until The Last Jedi comes out in December, so if you're looking for a fic that will guide you right up to the hiatus, then look no further! This story is primarily going to revolve around Poe teaching the Reader how to fly and what life is like with the Resistance, with the help of BB-8 and the rest of Black Squadron. There will be the threat of danger, sabotage, and, of course, the eventual smut, but mostly it will involve two of my favorite things: snark and shameless flirting. 
> 
> Leave a comment below and let me know what you liked, who you're looking to see more of, or any general questions, comments, or concerns. You can also drop me a line on my [Tumblr](http://streetsolo.tumblr.com/ask) or on [Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/Streetsolo-100707330320784/). I also have a huge Star Wars merch collection you can check out on my [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/streetsolo/). 
> 
> Until next week, cheers!!


	2. Chapter 2

               You lay in your bed, your hands folded behind your head as you stared up at the starchy white ceiling overhead. It was quiet on base, quieter than you would have suspected, or maybe that was only because the walls were so thick. You had no way of knowing for sure if there was anyone living either to the right or to the left of you, but you somehow doubted there was. The corridors outside your room had seemed more or less deserted, and you had a feeling that you were living in the spaces that were reserved for diplomatic guests when they came for inspections of the Resistance facilities. If they were looking for donations, it only made sense for them to put their guests in as pleasant accommodations as they could muster; not lavish, no, but simple, proof that they were trying to do their best with what little they had, and you could only imagine what sort of living conditions the actual volunteers were living in.

               You hear a knock at your door, and your feet are on the floor in a moment’s notice. Your mother had already headed back to Draboon, and you had made sure that she left without seeing your new quarters for the next eight weeks. You knew that she would only make a fuss over how austere it was, and you didn’t want her lowly opinions of the Resistance to be a reflection of your views as well. You hoped that you would get an opportunity to show Leia that you and your mother were two separate entities and that you did _not_ share her views, but Leia herself seemed to be a decent judge of character, and a part of you suspected that she already knew that.

               Not sure who to suspect with everyone from Draboon already headed home, you open the door to find none other than Commander Dameron standing outside. He’s wearing an orange jumpsuit that was slightly unzipped at the top, and you quickly pulled your eyes away from the zipper in order to meet his gaze. “Good morning,” you offer pleasantly, pushing a tight smile to the corners of your lips.

               “Good morning,” he echoes as he looks you up and down. “I’m surprised to see you up and dressed already. It’s usually a bit early for most people.”

               You didn’t know how to tell him that you didn’t even sleep yet, let alone go to bed, as you were still wearing the same clothes from the day before. You weren’t sure if Poe picked up on that or not, as you had removed your belt and let your faded blue tunic hang loosely around your middle. “The time here must be different than on Draboon,” you offer by means of courtesy. “But I think the better question is, what are you doing up?”

               Poe just tilts his head to the side slightly as he lets a grin overtake his features. “It’s time to begin your training.”

               “Training?” you echo, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “You mean we’re going flying? Already?”

               “Well, I’m going flying,” Poe says with a slight roll of his shoulders, his countenance turning slightly more serious. “You’re going to sit back and watch, but maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you push a few buttons, maybe let you take control of her for a few minutes.”

               “Her?” you echo blankly. “So I take it we’ll be flying one of your favorites, then?”

               “Just a standard commercial shuttle that was loaned to us by the courtesy of the New Republic,” Poe replies simply. “But I love all my ships equally, except for my X-Wing, _Black One_.”

               “Will I ever get to fly her?” you ask as you arch an eyebrow, already knowing the answer before he provides it.

               “Let’s see if you can get a ship in the air,” Poe tells you with a dry smile, and you just grin at him in response.

               “Am I going to need one of those bright orange suit things?” you ask, pointing to his suit as you step out into the hall after him.

               “When we go into space, yes,” Poe explains as he courteously shuts the door behind you. “But as for now, we’ll be staying near the surface of D’Qar, so it’s not necessary unless you _really_ want one.”

               “I think I’d rather earn it,” you tell him as you glance up at him, which earns you a pleasant smile in return.

               “Just like a proper pilot,” he says cheerily. “So why do you want to learn to fly? You’re the first of Draboonian royalty in a long time to even take lessons, if I understand correctly.”

               You didn’t know how to tell Poe that you’ve always wanted to escape your fate as the future ruler of Draboon, bound by your mother’s vast list of expectations of a ruler, most of which served no purpose beyond tradition. You wanted freedom and independence, not the formal captivity of Draboonian royalty, but Poe couldn’t know. You needed to learn to fly, and if word of your underlying motives reached your mother, these eight weeks would be cut short. No, Poe couldn’t know, not now, not when you didn’t know if he could be trusted not to pass the answer along to your mother.

               “I’m not sure, I’ve just always wanted to actually take control of the ship instead of just going along for the ride.”

               “That’s all? There has to be something else, or your mother wouldn’t have been so insistent on _me_ teaching you.”

               You supposed it wouldn’t hurt to tell him something you had repeated to your mother multiple times. “Just, the galaxy is headed for another war. If I was under threat, I want to know that I can take care of myself, and not have to depend on the guards if I needed to make a hasty escape.”

               “Not a fan of blind tradition?”

               You hesitate, and decide to give a noncommittal answer, just in case. “Something like that.”

               Poe stops and makes a small noise in his throat as he considers your answer. “You’re not the only one around here.” He stands for a moment, visibly recalling something before beckoning for you to follow him through the narrow door before you.

               “Here we go,” he says as you enter the small Resistance hangar. Ahead, you can see a Delta shuttle with its boarding ramp extended, and Poe’s orange spherical astromech droid seems to be beckoning for you to follow as it disappears up the ramp.

               “Is that the shuttle I’ll learn to fly?”

               “Yep. BB-8 even got it warmed up without me asking.”

               You take a few steps toward the shuttle, then turn when you realize Poe isn’t beside you. Instead, he’s standing where you left him, one eyebrow raised quizzically.

               “And where do you think you’re going?”

               “The...shuttle? You said we were flying it.”

               “Not today. I have something else in mind.” He stands watching the shuttle for a few moments, waiting until his droid rolled back down the ramp with a short inquiring whistle. “Change of plans, buddy. We’ll do the tour next lesson, just take her up and run in the new arrays for me.”

               BB-8 gives a series of whistles you don’t understand in reply, then disappears back up the retracting ramp, and you watch as the shuttle slowly lifts off of the ground and drifts out the main hangar door. Poe follows your gaze as the shuttle rises up into D’Qar’s open sky, only turning his attention back to you once it disappears behind a cloud.

               “Don’t worry, you’ll get there soon enough; you just need to learn the basics first. Follow me.”

               Poe goes outside through a small door and turns a corner. As you follow him outside, you stop short as you realize that the doorway lets out onto their main starfighter strip, lined with X-Wings and A-Wings alike.

               “Welcome to Starfighter Alley, home of the Resistance Starfighter Corps.”

               He pauses and answers your next question as if he had read your mind, “No, we’re _definitely_ not flying one of these today.” Poe is leaning on the wall of the base, a small smirk playing on his features as he gestures to a speeder behind him. Looking past him, you notice it’s rather similar to the type of speeder the mining guilds used to ferry workers between the capital and the lapis veins of the Scar. One of your guards frequently used a similar model to patrol the city as well.

               “We have these on Draboon,” you say as you walk around the Y-shaped speeder, actively trying to recall if you had ever seen one of these speeders actually _fly_ and not just hover above the ground. “When you said we’d be staying near D’Qar’s surface, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

               “Neither did I, but something you said reminded me of this old T-13 we still keep around to remind us of our beginnings. Before the Resistance, before the New Republic, the Alliance started as independent seeds of rebellion that eventually grew together into a unified force, though it was one which suffered from the same issues for which we visited you on Draboon: starfighters are incredibly expensive to acquire, operate, and maintain, and they needed the best people flying them if they were to survive a fight against the Empire. The trouble was, if you wanted the best from non-Imperial sources, you had to either buy mercenary pilots or you had to train them from scratch yourself. The Alliance couldn’t bear the cost of hiring mercenaries, nor could they risk the chance that mercenaries would steal the fighters for their own profit, so they found a way to train the pilots cheaply: hundreds of hours on this little airspeeder and the Skyhopper. Get in, take a look.”

               You climb into the front seat of the tandem open-air cockpit and look around at the consoles surrounding you. There is a vast assortment of dials, gauges and screens, all of which seem to be powered off. Right where you supposed your arms would rest, two sticks occupied the tips of the armrests, supplying one for each hand. You slide your hands down the armrests and grab the two sticks, instinctively pulling back slightly on them, hoping that something would happen, though you couldn’t say you were surprised when nothing seemed to change.

               “Don’t worry, we’ll take her up shortly. Take a look around. Take it in.”

               You look up from the consoles to the row of X-Wings across the gravel strip, then back to the consoles, noting a distinct resemblance between the shape of the speeder and the X-Wings.

               “So does this little speeder really fly exactly like one of _those_?”

               “Sort of. The cockpit layouts of the T-13 and the Skyhopper are almost identical to that of an X-Wing cockpit, although the T-13 doesn’t have any weapon systems like the Skyhopper. The Alliance didn’t have the benefit of reaching out to a wealthy sponsor to allow them to train new pilots with relatively exorbitant X-Wing operating costs. Instead, they trained them to read their panels and build pilot’s intuition on these speeders before training them on X-Wings for the final combat training stages. X-Wings need fuel and constant maintenance. These? We just plug them into a power port for a few hours, then the repulsors and the turbine are good to go.”

               “Does it really work?”

               Poe raises an eyebrow before chuckling. “Apparently so, since the Empire is gone and the New Republic rose out of the Alliance. I assume you’ve read about the Battle of Yavin in your studies?”

               “You mean the destruction of the first Death Star?”

               “Yes, exactly. The pilot who destroyed the Death Star did it flying an X-Wing for the very first time, because he grew up flying a Skyhopper. The controls and handling are so similar that his skills translated directly to starfighter combat, and he took on the Empire and won.”

               What Poe’s saying sounds inspiring and motivational.

               Too bad he was wrong.

               “Wait, either you’re making stuff up to make a dramatic point, or someone has lied to you. The Death Star? Destroyed by a lone starfighter pilot? That’s impossible. Mother required me to read the Death Star Commission report as part of my studies in galactic history. The destruction of the first Death Star was the result of sabotage by an Imperial traitor, not a mythical impossible shot taken by a lone pilot. It’s in public record.”

               Poe takes a long look at you, as if trying to decide which point he should correct you on first.  

               “That’s the official position of the New Republic Senate, yes, a politically expedient position considering the alternative would mean the New Republic owed its existence to the General and her family. You’re aware of the General’s fall from favor in the Senate, right?”

               You nod. You had briefly heard your mother discussing it, but of course, that had been information that she had decided you weren’t ready to hear just yet. You had found out on your own, of course, just like everyone else in the galaxy.

               “Then you understand why the New Republic is siding with the findings of an _Imperial_ report, instead of the word of the very people whom they owe their very existence. The New Republic Senators are not keen on the idea of owing a great debt to the son of Darth Vader, so they’d rather deny the truth and perpetuate an old Imperial lie. I’ve seen the starfighter cam footage of the battle, and I can tell you that Luke Skywalker is not a myth, and his shot did indeed destroy the Death Star. One day, one of our pilots may have to do the same for whatever the First Order has planned.”

               Poe checks the time on his comm piece and sighs dramatically before pulling his lips back in a wide smirk. “Well, I don’t believe your mother is paying us to teach you about political history, and you’ll never destroy the First Order at this rate, so shall we fly?”

               Poe flips a black toggle on the console near your right hand, and the speeder starts up with a high-pitched whine that quickly fades to a low hum, rising to a hover a few feet from the ground.

               “Get in, and we’ll get started.” Poe says, motioning to the front seat. As you climb in, he takes the seat behind you, flipping more switches you can’t see.

               “I’ll take us to the practice clearing first, then I’ll have you fly us around out there. Ready?”

               You can feel a small lump in your throat as you nod your head forward. The speeder starts moving away from the base, quickly picking up speed as you pass the X-Wings on either side of you. Soon the duracrete apron of Starfighter Alley gives way to a narrow grass path through the forest surrounding the base. Quickly, the trees are replaced by a large flat plain in the midst of the forest, the opposite edge just barely visible on the horizon.  As the wind blows about you, Poe calls out to you. “Ever make your hand fly when you rode in a speeder?” You look back to see Poe holding out his arm to the wind, his hand rising and falling as he changes its angle, just like you had as a child before your mother put a stop to it.

               “Yes, before, but my mother never allowed it again, on the grounds that it was unladylike behavior.”

               “That’s a shame, since it’s the first lesson of flight. Anything can fly, given the proper surface angle and sufficient propulsive power. Go ahead, try it. This isn’t Draboon; it’s D’Qar’s forest. You’re free to do what you please out here.”

               It had been a long time since you had last flown your hand the way Poe was doing just now, and you slowly reach out beyond the edge of the speeder, feeling the wind catch your hand. As you turned your wrist, you noticed what Poe was trying to teach you about surface angle, watching and feeling your hand rise and fall with small movements of your wrist as Poe calls out to you again over the roar of the wind.

               “See? When the wind is under your hand, it rises, but when it is over your hand, it falls. It’s the same thing with the speeder - watch the flaps you see on the nose.”

               You look ahead at the nose, and watch as the flaps tip up then straighten as the ground falls away beneath you. After a moment, they tip back down before straightening up again as the speeder gently coasts back down to its original hover.

               “See? Just like your hand. It’s easy. Go ahead, try it. Pull the sticks up toward you to pull up, and push them away to go down. You have pitch control.”

               You hesitate for a minute, then cautiously grab the two sticks and slow pull them back toward you. Unlike earlier, this time the speeder started to rise away from the ground, though at a much slower rate than Poe’s demonstration. After slowly ascending for what seemed like a minute, you push the sticks away, nosing the speeder down until you began to descend toward the ground again, quicker than you had climbed. As the ground approaches you start to pull up on the sticks, but a red light flashes on the center panel in front of you as the speeder quickly jumps up several meters with a loud whine. You immediately let go of the sticks in surprise, and after a moment, you call back to Poe.

               “Um, what did I do wrong?”

               Poe chuckles before replying. “That’s a safeguard I had installed _specifically_ so that your mother would be wrong about you crashing on your very first time out. Don’t worry, it’s an extremely common mistake. Try again; this time, consider the fact that the speeder will just keep flying in whatever direction you point it in, so level out when you’re at the height you want. Also, remember that gravity naturally pulls things down, so you’ll always drop faster than you climb.”

               Carefully, you grab the two sticks again, pulling up higher than the last time, before nosing down and leveling out like Poe said. After a few moments, you push down slowly, getting a feel for how fast the speeder dropped before leveling out well above normal hover height. You continue climbing and dipping in the speeder for a few minutes before Poe calls out to you. “Okay, it looks like you’ve gotten the hang of the pitch, so now let’s talk about rolls and banks. We’re approaching the edge of the clearing, so I’m going to split the surface controls and I want you to _slowly_ push the left stick down and pull the right stick up. Once the speeder starts to tip, pull back slightly on both sticks and turn us back toward base, okay?”

               You do as Poe says and slowly push the sticks in opposite directions until you feel the speeder tipping under you. You pull back, bringing the speeder slowly around in a banked turn like you saw the guards do on patrol. Once you were pointing back in the opposite direction, you reversed the motions to straighten and level the speeder.

               “Perfect! Hands off for a second, I’m going to engage simulated space handling so you can get a preview of what that’s like.”

               Behind you, you can hear Poe flipping a few switches. Then a small screen in front of you lights up with the message: _Opposition drives 38% remaining_.

               “Hm. Annec must have forgotten to charge the opposition drives with all the extra X-Wing maintenance happening today. We still have enough power for what I wanted to show you, though. Try climbing and dipping now, and get a feel for how it’s different.”

               You test the controls, pulling up and down, together and split, noting that the speeder dipped and rolled _exactly_ the same as before Poe had engaged the simulation, or whatever it was. “So, what do you mean, different? It feels the same as before. Is there something wrong?”

               “No, everything is fine. Try it again, but _this_ time, try turning left as fast as you can.”

               Sensing that something is probably going to go wrong, you climb high above the ground, hearing Poe chuckle behind you as you do so. Once you’re satisfied that you’re sufficiently high enough above the ground that you won’t instantly crash if something goes wrong, you do what Poe says, rolling the speeder to the left and pulling up on the sticks _hard_.

               You instantly regret it.

               Instead of pulling into the turn, the speeder continues in the same direction, tumbling wildly through the air as several alarms whine on the console in front of you. Several seconds pass as you tumble through the air. Poe does nothing, and so you desperately try to remedy the situation by reversing your actions, pushing forward on the sticks, then trying to roll right, only to worsen the tumble and send the speeder hurling toward the ground. As the ground whips about your view, growing closer and closer with each turn, you can hear your mother now, in her chiding tone.

               “ _I don’t know why you insist on this childish fantasy. The Queen of Draboon must be serene, dedicated to her people, unspoiled by the frantic desperation of peril. That is for lesser people. Your place is to rule, to defend the traditions of Draboon. Leave the flying and the fighting to the Merchants and the Guards. It will only get you killed in the end._ ”

               Right on cue, a mechanical voice adds to the blaring alarms: “ _Collision warning.”_

               You close your eyes, hoping it wouldn’t hurt too much.

 _“Impact in ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, on-_ ”

               Suddenly, all the alarms cut out, and you feel the speeder right itself under you. In the silence and calm, you’re afraid to open your eyes, wondering if this was it, if you really had died a quick and painless death. As you ponder the question of whether your rising nausea was a sign of life or death, something stiff and crinkling pokes at your ear, and you carefully peek at your surroundings. On the console, the words _Simulation terminated. Opposition drives 2% remaining_ appear, and the ground is safely several meters below you. You grab at whatever is poking you, finding that it’s some kind of fibrous sack, its purpose obvious. Your pride gets the better of you, and you shake your head, opting to swallow your nausea and wait it out, eliciting a small chuckle from Poe.

               Once you feel you can safely speak, you can’t hold back your question. “What was _that_?”

               “ _That_ was just a taste of one of the first lessons all of my starfighter pilots have to master if they want to fly for me. Flying in space is much, much different than the gentle forgiving nature of atmospheric flight. In space, methodical control is paramount, especially since the rules of gravity and drag every living creature understands instinctively no longer apply. If you panic in space and don’t consider the power of your engines versus your ship’s maneuvering capability, such as trying to escape pirates after your cargo or an enemy starfighter trying to run you down, you’ll tumble just like earlier.”

               “But I know not to try extreme things in space, so why bother making me go through that?”

               “Even experienced pilots panic. It’s how I lost one of my best pilots several years ago, and I almost got killed doing it on purpose once.”

               “On purpose?”

               “A story for another time. What’s important to know is that extreme maneuvers get space pilots killed every week, regardless of their skill and experience, so everyone who flies with me goes through this lesson to emphasize the importance of calm control. You actually did fairly well for a beginner, even pilots with some experience usually freeze on the first tumble, but you actually tried to pull out of it. What you did was _mostly_ right, and with more training, we’ll try this again, but there’s a lot to learn between now and then. There’s much more to spaceflight than the flying itself - every pilot and crew has to think about navigation, space weather, shield power, ship maintenance, that sort of thing. It’s a long list and you’ll learn it all these next few weeks. Speaking of, we should start heading back to base. The squadron is running in the engines on some of our X-Wings after some maintenance courtesy of your mother. Remember what direction it is?”

               A quick survey of the horizon gives you a glimpse of small dots moving in the distance that were unmistakably fighters flying around, and you turn the speeder towards them.

               “Just keep her steady, and watch the sky. You’re going to want to see this.”

               Poe’s communicator chirps, immediately followed by a voice coming from your console. “Black Leader, Control here. Come in.”

               “Black Leader. Go ahead, Control.”

               “Stand by, Black Leader. Blue Three and Six incoming on heading seven-three, maximum power. Visual verification of maneuvering performance requested on Blue Three. Stability trouble indicated by astromech R4-B1. Patching you in. Test run commencing in three, two, one, _mark_. Range one-five clicks. You have command, Black Leader.”

               “Blue Three, Blue Six, Black Leader here, talk to me.”

               “Blue Three here,” a female voice replies, “Feels like one of my stabilizers is loose, but I can’t tell which one, and neither can Rabby. I’ll go for a max run against Six, then we’ll troubleshoot with the engines hot.”

               A male voice chuckles over the comm and replies, “You’re on, Three. Speed matched with Three, Black Leader. Ready on your mark.”

               “Max injection in three, two, one, begin.”

               The female voice comes back. “Wide open, Black Leader. ETA six seconds.”

               The speeder comes to a stop, and Poe taps your right shoulder to direct your attention off towards the right at two dots on the horizon. The dots quickly grow into the unmistakable forms of X-Wings and flash by overhead faster than anything you had ever seen, cementing your goal of flying one before you returned to Draboon.

               “Three wins again, Six, try again next week,” Poe says warmly before falling back into a more serious tone. “Six, return to base. Three, pull around for vertical climb at my position.”

               You hear the male and female voice reply in turn, “Roger, Black Leader.”

               One of the X-Wings returns above the clearing and pulls up so that it was flying straight up above you, and begins moving and spinning in response to Poe’s instructions as you both stare up at it.

               “Three, roll left and right, thirty degrees smartly each. Throttle down and flip. Full roll, once left, twice right. Hm.”

               “Did you figure it out, Black Leader? It’s still coming and going up here, the data doesn’t make any sense.”

               “I have an idea, Three, but you’re not going to like it. We’re going to have to go back to square one.”

               The female pilot groans on the other end of the comm. “Roger, Black Leader. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do the dead drop. Emergency ejection primed and ready, Blue Three standing by.”

               Listening to the words _emergency ejection_ and _dead drop_ , you wonder whether you should be sitting underneath the X-Wing like this if the pilot was worried about crashing. “Poe, should we move or something?”

               “Remember what I said about all my pilots mastering what you went through? She’s going to have to intentionally tumble the fighter to figure out what’s wrong, so watch and learn. She’s recovered from every dead tumble scenario multiple times so she shouldn’t have to eject, but this time is different since there’s a loose stabilizer. Just to be safe, if you hear the words, _‘Ejection, Ejection,’_ hold on tight and prepare to go pick her up.”

               “Blue Three, execute starboard lateral dead drop with all engines dead for four seconds, then pull out as fast as possible. Retrieval crew standing by. _Don’t_ forget the counterthrusters.”

               “Roger, Black Leader. May the Force be with us, I guess. Dropping in three, two, one, mark.”

               Overhead, the X-Wing begins tumbling towards you, each second stretching on as you waited for the red glow of the X-Wing’s engines to return. Over the comm, the pilot counted down, “Three, two, one, engine start. Recovering in five, four, three, two, one, auggh!”

               Above, you see the red glow of the X-Wing’s engines come back, accompanied by the X-Wing deflecting sharply to the right, just like your speeder had earlier. Instinctively, you push the speeder forward, chasing the distressed fighter in preparation for rescue. As you look back up from the controls, you see the fighter smoothly pull up and level out from the tumble, the red glow of one engine flickering as the fighter turns away from you and heads back to base.

               “Sorry to scare you, Black Leader, couldn’t reach the counterthrusters after the first recovery. The data still doesn’t make any sense though, so was it worth it?”

               “Roger, Three. Looks like your number two stabilizer is loose. Can you see it up there?”

               A series of beeps and whistles comes through the comm before the pilot replies, “No, Black Leader, Rabby is still reading nominal on all systems for engine two. How do you know it’s two?”

               “Your number two engine is intermittent, Three. Have Rabby replace the stabilizer completely. Normal indications mean the entire control pack is faulty. I’ll take a look when we get back.”

               “Roger, Black Leader, see you back at base. Three out.”

               Poe glances back towards you. “So, did you learn anything from that demonstration?”

               “Mainly that I have a lot to learn, though that doesn’t bother me.”

               “That you do, but we’ll talk about that when we get back. I’ll take over here, there’s a shortcut back to base.”

               You let go of the controls and wiggle your fingers above your head, signaling that you’ve relinquished control to Poe, and the speeder turns and dives through the trees at the edge of the clearing, twisting and turning around the trunks until you emerge onto Starfighter Alley. Poe coasts the speeder up to a large boxy droid near the hangar door before shutting down, and jumps out to talk with the droid.

               “Annec, finish that engine swap okay?”

               The droid responds in a series of rumbles and buzzes you had no hope of understanding, while Poe just nods.

               “All right, I need you to hook the speeder up for a full charge, then head over to Blue Three to help Rabby with a bad stabilizer, got it?”

               The droid just buzzes in response before shuffling into the hangar, and Poe motions for you to follow him.

               “So how was that for your first time out?” Poe asks, and you can’t help but offer him an idle shrug, trying to downplay your giddy excitement for his sake. In truth, you couldn’t have been more excited, and you wanted to go back out, immediately.

               “It’s interesting,” you tell him, trying your best to keep your voice even. “But I feel like it’s the sort of thing that I’m going to have to learn by doing more.”

               “Well, handling is definitely something that you’ll have to learn by experience, there’s no denying that,” Poe admits, pausing for a moment as he reflects on your words. “But there’s a lot of theory involved as well. In addition to our lessons each morning, I’ll also be giving you some homework.”

               “Wait, each morning?” you echo, trying not to seem as excited as you felt. “So you mean we’ll be going out and flying every day then?”

               “If that’s all right with you,” Poe replies good-naturedly, and you can’t help but beam up with him, smiling with unabashed enthusiasm. “In your room, you should find a series of manuals that were dropped off this morning while we were out. They contain a bit of information on everything that you’ll need to know about space flight and the theories behind it. If you’re going to be a pilot, it’s not just learning how to handle controls. There’s a lot of technical considerations behind it too, and we don’t have much time, so I need to know that you’re up for the challenge.”

               “I’m here, aren’t I?” you reply, a gentle smirk pulling at the corners of your lips. “Whatever it takes, consider me prepared. I really want this, Poe, like I really want to learn how to be a pilot.” You pause for a moment, but the words are already there, waiting just beyond your lips, and you decide to let them out.

               “All the time I’m always being told what I need to do and when I need to do it, but I never actually get to make time for myself. I know that sounds selfish, but when I think about me and who I am separate from my role as heiress to the throne of Draboon, I have no idea who I am. I want at least one skill that I have that I don’t naturally have any talent for. I love to sing, I’m told that I’m an excellent singer, but I don’t know if that’s flattery because of who I am or if it’s because of a natural talent that I was just born with. Either way, it’s not something that I worked hard to acquire, and that’s what I want, I want a skill that I can say that I learned. I want to put my all into something and actually watch my skills develop over time so I can get better and better.”

               “I know flying isn’t easy. I know there’s a lot that I’m going to have to study and learn, but I want to work at it, I want to become smarter and prove to myself that this is something that I can do. I know that the state of the galaxy is volatile right now, and I never know if I’m going to find myself in a position where I need to make a speedy escape and there is no one else around to help me. If that’s the case, I want to make sure that _I_ know how to escape, that I can fend for myself. My mother is satisfied to just have her guards with her, but I don’t want to have to be reliant on others to save me if it ever unfortunately comes down to that. I want to be able to save myself, and protect my people too, if I can. I’m not much of a fighter, but I’ll do whatever I can to protect my planet.”

               Poe is looking down at you now with a look that’s a cross between admiration and something you can’t quite define, and you quickly find yourself blushing scarlet as you glance away. These were private thoughts that you had entertained for some time, but they were never safe to venture out in the open when you weren’t sure if your mother would eventually find out what you said. However, you felt relatively safe here at the Resistance, and you felt that your conviction to improve your self-reliance was a trait that would be appreciated and understood here.

               “What?” you ask when you suddenly can’t take the silence anymore, visibly shrugging your shoulders as you push your hair back behind you in an attempt to shake off your discomfort.

               “I think you’re going to fit in well here,” Poe tells you with a quick smile, and you gnaw nervously on your lower lip before you glance back at him, if only for a brief moment. “I’m headed to the mess hall to get some lunch. Would you care to join me? It’d be a great chance to meet everyone.”

               Everyone. You had just said much more than you ever intended to say around Poe, and right now you felt in a talkative mood. You weren’t quite sure what wayward thoughts you might divulge, and to be honest, you weren’t quite sure you were ready to be introduced to so many people all at once. When people used to approach you back on Draboon, they always bowed or curtseyed to respect your elevated rank, but here? Here you were just some princess from some far off planet that you doubted they had ever heard of, and your mother’s words still rang in your ears, urging you to make a good first impression.

               “As tempting as that offer sounds, I think I would like to head back to my quarters for further study,” you tell him as firmly as you can muster. “I’d like to meet everyone eventually, but right now I would like to review the lesson while it’s still fresh in my mind.”

               “Up to you,” Poe says, but you can’t help but distinguish a note of disappointment in his voice, as if he was excited to show everyone the new recruit he had taken under his wing. Maybe he had been bombarded with questions about _the princess_ ever since he had first arrived on base, and he was eager to show you off to everyone so they could see what you were like for themselves and end that line of questioning once and for all.  

               “But,” you say after a moment as you shoot him a sideways glance. “I wouldn’t be opposed to say, perhaps, going to dinner with you to meet everyone later, maybe?”

               Poe winches slightly, as if he had been secretly hoping you wouldn’t ask that, and you can’t help but flinch yourself as you glance away. “Unfortunately I’m going to be busy the rest of the day,” Poe explains, a bit of apology in his voice, and you quickly shake your head from side to side to show that you didn’t take it personally.

               “No, no,” you say quickly. “You’re busy, we’ll do it some other time. After all, I’m here for eight weeks, right? I’ve got plenty of time to meet everyone you want me to meet.”

               “Exactly,” Poe replies, although the air between you was suddenly tense. You weren’t sure why, exactly, and although there doesn’t seem like anything more to say, your lower lip trembles of its own accord, as if you want to say something more. Poe seems to be suffering the same predicament as he turns to you suddenly before he turns away, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as you walk. Finally, you find yourself coming to the intersection heading towards your quarters, and you almost can’t help but sigh in relief as you duck down the hallway and leave Poe walking straight towards the mess hall.

               “Well, see you then,” you say quickly over your shoulder, leaving Poe’s voice to follow you down the base’s narrow halls.

     “See you.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've been with me since my very first Star Wars story, a Kylo Ren x Reader called [A Flare in the Dark](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5815693/chapters/13402072), which was about a team of interpreters working on the Starkiller Base, you know that by the end of the trilogy, I had started to take piloting lessons! They're really a lot of fun for me and since I got a lot of feedback that people enjoyed what they learned from all the interpreting jargon I threw into the first story, I decided to do it again here. Obviously some, er, modifications have to be made between this galaxy and the one far, far away, but I hope that it can be at least a little bit fun and educational! (I was worried it might be a little too dry and monotonous, if it's too much, just let me know and I'll scale it back in future chapters!) Next week we get some more flying in, meet some of the Royal Guard, and even help Jess diagnose some issues with her X-Wing. Until then, cheers!! (And enjoy Game of Thrones tonight!)


	3. Chapter 3

               You look up quickly as you hear a knock on the door. You toss the datapad that you had been reading from aside as you quickly get to your feet, wondering if Poe had had a change of plans and was inviting you to dinner after all.

As you open the door, you can see one of the members of your security detailing standing on the other side of the threshold, still dressed in his neat blue uniform, embroidered with golden trim. In his hands, he’s holding a platter of food, and a smile pulls up at the corner of your lips as you realized that apparently the Resistance provided delivery service.

               “Your dinner, Your Highness,” he says, and you quickly usher him inside, closing the door behind him as you gesture for him to set it down on the low table in front of the couch.

               “Thank you,” you say as you make your way back to the couch, sitting down cross-legged as you lean hungrily over the metallic cover. As you remove it, you see an assortment of vegetables and fruit that have been chopped and sliced into a delectable little medley, and a neat little piece of sliced meat. “Oh, this looks good. Do you know what this, uh, is? Or was?”

               “Uh, I’m not sure,” he offers as he glances down at your plate. “I can go ask if you would like.”

               “Oh, no, that’s fine,” you say dismissively as you wave your hand. You look up at him, suddenly, realizing that he didn’t look much older than you. His hair was a deep chestnut brown that matched his eyes almost perfectly, although you couldn’t help but notice an eager golden spark around the iris that helped to divulge his age. “Say, you’re new, aren’t you? What’s your name?”

               “Um,” he mutters as if he’s not sure if he should reveal that information or not. You weren’t sure if he had been given orders not to, but either way, you find his nervousness endearing.

               “Um?” you echo. “Is that name common back on Draboon? If it is, I’m apparently out of touch with the common people.”

               He looks like he’s about to respond to the contrary before he shakes his head and gives a small chuckle. “My name’s Garrett,” he tells you. “I was picked for this team because I was still new and learning the ropes. They thought it would be easier for me to blend in with the Resistance if I didn’t look too official.”

               “Blend in?” you echo with a small laugh. “In that uniform? I’d say you’re kind of easy to spot.”

               “Yeah,” Garrett says with a small shrug. “I was offered a change of clothes here, but I was instructed to remain in my uniform at all times.”

               “There’s no need for professional decorum here,” you say as you shake your head from side to side to indicate your displeasure with your mother’s rules. “She’s not here and I’m not going to tell anyone. You can take it off if you want.”

               “I appreciate that, Your Highness,” Garrett says as he nods his head forward in appreciation. “Unfortunately, I’m sure you know that your mother has eyes and ears everywhere, and I wouldn’t want to take that chance and risk upsetting Draboon’s immaculate reputation.” He rolls his eyes slightly to the side to show his sarcasm, and while you immediately gasp at his boldness, a smirk quickly spreads to the corners of your lips.

               “Sit,” you say as you point to a nearby chair, and you quickly wave your hand to dismiss his immediate look of unease. “Come on, you’re the only real familiar face that I’ve got around here. I haven’t really met anyone else on base yet, and to be honest, I’m kind of nervous about it.”          

               To his credit, Garrett seems to sense that you can use someone to talk to as he awkwardly walks over and props himself up on the edge of the chair, both feet planted firmly on the floor in front of him. “Who are you looking to meet?” he asks, as if he’s not sure what you mean. “I saw that you already made your introductions with Princess Leia.”

               “Yes,” you say with a quick nod of your head as you lean forward to start eating while you talk. “But I am working closely with Commander Dameron and he would like me to meet the people in his squadron.”

               “Black Squadron?” Garrett asks, and you tilt your head to the side as you pause for a moment, trying to remember.

               “Yeah, that sounds right to me.”

               “Black Squadron is apparently the best the Resistance has to offer,” Garrett tells you. “I know we already assumed that what with the Commander’s visit, but apparently everyone on base has nothing but good things to say about him.”

               “I can see why,” you mutter under your breath, and Garrett seemingly can’t help but give you a confused stare. “Oh, it’s nothing. He’s just, very colloquial, that’s all. Considering his rank I would have expected him to be a bit stuffier, but he’s actually quite pleasant to be around.”

               “I’m glad to hear he’s treating you with the respect you deserve,” Garrett says, and you can’t help but flush at his comment. If he was trying to imply something, it seemed that it went just a bit over your head. “I heard he used to be a pilot for the Republic before he defected. Apparently…”

               “That’s enough,” you tell him simply, trying to keep your voice light to make sure that Garrett didn’t see your request as a reprimand. “I was already briefed more or less on what happened, some unpleasant business with the First Order that the New Republic didn’t want to concern themselves with, but I would prefer it if I eventually heard the full story firsthand from Commander Dameron himself.”

               “I understand,” Garrett says quickly, and you can’t tell by the nervous way that he shuffles that he wants to leave before he speaks out of turn.

               “Garrett, listen to me,” you say as you place your half-empty plate back onto the table in front of you. “I don’t have many friends here, or at least, not many people that I can trust. We are both a long way from home, and there may be people here that do not have Draboon’s best interests at heart. Do you understand?”

               “I, I believe so,” Garrett stammers as he nods his head quickly, and you incline your head in a much more relaxed manner, taking in a series of deep nods before you continue.

               “Forget for a moment that I’m the princess who you’re sworn to protect,” you tell him. “Think of me as your friend. As your friend, you’d want to make sure that nothing happened to me, right? That I was safe here?”

               “Of course, Your Highness,” Garrett says immediately, almost aghast, and you hope he doesn’t think that he’s said something to imply the opposite.

               “As your friend, I would want you to be open with me,” you continue. “I would want you to tell me if someone was saying something about me, or my planet, whether it be positive or negative.” You pause, reflecting for a moment. “Or even about Princess Leia, or Commander Dameron. I am going to be spending a lot of time with him over the next few weeks, and you never know when something trivial might become, well, _influential_.” You turn back to Garrett as you narrow your eyes. “Do you understand what I’m asking you, Garrett?”

               “You’re asking me to, to spy on them for you?” Garrett asks, his nervousness reflected in his dark eyes, and you quickly shake your head.

               “Not _spy_ ,” you say quickly. “But it’s your job to patrol the base around my quarters, correct? If you _happen_ to hear anything, I would very much like for you to let me know. As I’m sure you’re well aware, my mother spared no expense to assist in financing the Resistance’s campaign, and therefore we have a stake in the operations that go on here. If anyone sees our presence as unwelcome, or intrusive, I think we should have a right to know why, don’t you?”

               “I…” Garrett hesitates for a moment as he glances down, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he abandons the rigid orders that he had been given in favor of logic, of thinking for himself.

               “Might I remind you that I’m sure you were instructed to follow my orders here, were you not?” you remind him in a light tone, and an involuntary smirk pulls at the corner of Garrett’s lips, as if you had suddenly unburdened him from making an otherwise conflicting decision.

               “You’re right,” he admits. “If I hear anything, I will let you know of it immediately.”

               “Good, good,” you say as you pull your datapad back onto your lap. “Now, Commander Dameron has given me the unfortunate task of deliberating over countless spaceflight theorems for the remainder of the night, and I have no doubt that he is going to quiz me tomorrow in an attempt to see how unprepared I am.” Garrett lets out a little laugh as you shake your head. “And I have absolutely no intention of disappointing either him or myself. It’s difficult, I’ll give him that, but it’s not impossible and I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it once the right thing _clicks_.”

               “I’m sure you will, Your Highness,” Garrett echoes appreciatively. “I wish I could be of more assistance, but unfortunately my own knowledge of space flight is unfortunately limited, and far inferior to whatever training you have received. As such, I’ll leave you to your work and if you require anything else from me, please be in touch.”

               “Thank you, Garrett,” you say politely, but you’ve already turned your attention back to your datapad as you puzzle over the discussion of spacecraft weight and propulsion you see on the screen in front of you. Garrett quietly shows himself out, but you don’t even notice as you stare determinedly at the black printed Aurebesh, trying to figure out what exactly the words were trying to tell you. You were still staring at the letters before your eyes slipped closed, and you eventually fell into an uneasy sleep.  

               The next time you open your eyes, the room is dark and you blink in the dim light as you glance around the room. As you shift your sore legs out from underneath you, the datapad slips from your lap and onto the floor.

               You push the heel of your palm against your temple as you try and take stock of yourself. You slowly get to your feet and stretch your neck out to the side as you mutter incoherently under your breath, trying to help your brain shake off the remnants of sleep. Slowly your thoughts started to come back to you, and with them, the realization that you were _still_ wearing the same clothes you had since you had arrived, and if you wore them for any longer, Poe was definitely going to notice.

               Reluctantly, you bend over and pick up the datapad and place it onto the table, ignoring the small creak your knees emitted in protest. You had no idea how long you had been sitting like that for, but you could tell by the way your neck remained decidedly stiff that it had been that way for far too long. Hoping the warm water would at least do you some good, you slowly shed off your clothes, moving remarkably slowly as you made your way into the small tiled bathroom. You completely ignore the mirror as you make your way towards the shower, turning the water on and letting your fingers trail underneath the tap, waiting until the cool water ran warm. Unfortunately, it never really got above lukewarm, but you just shrugged your shoulders as you stepped into the narrow stall, letting the water cascade over your hair and down your back.

               Your brain was still fuzzy from sleep, and you didn’t know how long you were under the water for before your eyes snapped open and you suddenly took stock of your surroundings. How long had you been in the shower for? What if Poe was outside waiting for you to get ready? What if he happened to think something was wrong and entered your quarters to find you running around naked trying to find something to wear? You quickly hop out of the shower and dress quickly, thankful that you had at least unpacked your things when you had first arrived, lest you be fitfully scrambling through a suitcase now in an attempt to find something decent to wear.

               Fortunately, you manage to get dressed and plop yourself back down onto couch as you pull your datapad back into your hands. You pull up the screen that you had been reading last night and, unsurprisingly, the text doesn’t look any easier to understand now than it did last night. You gnaw on your lower lip as your eyes search through the text, as if silently begging the still black letters to impart some sort of knowledge that your brain just wasn’t comprehending. You have no idea how long you sit like that for, just staring at the same black letters again and again, before you’re startled by a knock on the door and almost drop your datapad in response.

               “Hi,” you say quickly as you open up the door, almost a bit breathlessly, and Poe’s forehead immediately creases as he glances down at you.

               “Hey, you okay?” he asks, and you can’t help but flush as heat rises to the tops of your cheeks.

               “Fine,” you reply as you shake your head, and as you glance down you realize your datapad is still in your hand. You wave it dramatically in one hand as you offer him a small smile. “I was up late last night, you know, just catching up on some light reading.”

               “Did you seriously stay up all night trying to read the whole manual?” Poe asks as his eyebrows knot together in confusion, and you can’t help but blush.

               “I just want to stay ahead of the curve,” you say as you shrug your shoulders. “I got past the parts you told me to read, but I didn’t know if there was something important that was in here that might come up in today’s lesson, and I wanted to be prepared.”

               “There is such a thing as too prepared,” Poe tells you, standing in the doorway as you turn around to place the datapad back on the low table in the center of your living room. Poe turns his head to look over your shoulder at the datapad, noting its display with a small click of his tongue. “Hyperspace collision avoidance? I wouldn’t expect you to understand even a tenth of that at this point. I don’t want you to try to take on too much too quickly and get discouraged if you can’t figure it all out right away. It’ll take some time, and you have plenty of it. Remember, you’re still on your first week here.”

               “And I only have eight weeks,” you remind him pointedly. “I don’t want to risk not learning something vital or have to spend the last week picking and choosing what I want to learn because we didn’t have enough time to cover everything.”

               “Well, we’re not going to cover _everything_ ,” Poe tells you, and now it’s your turn to let your forehead crease as your lower lip juts out in an involuntary pout. “It takes years to truly master spaceflight, and as you said, you only have eight weeks here. I can teach you the basics, I can teach you what you need to know to get where you need to go on mostly any shuttle that you’ll find in the Republic’s core worlds, but we’re not going to have time to teach you how to fly, say, an X-Wing, for example.”

               “But…”

               The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you can’t help but pout. You consider this for a moment and realize that back on your home planet, they didn’t even _have_ X-Wings for you to practice on. Maybe you could convince your mother to get one for you so that you could have extra practice, but even that seemed like a long shot. Even still, when you became Queen, that was definitely a viable option for you…wasn’t it?

               “The last week,” you offer immediately. “If I study hard and I learn mostly everything I need to know, can I at least fly your X-Wing during the last week I’m here?”

               “An X-Wing,” Poe quickly corrects you, but you can see him gnawing on his lower lip, appraising you, still trying to come to a final decision. You look up at him earnestly, both hands clasped together in front of your chest as you silently beg him to comply. “All right,” he says at length, and you can’t help but let out an involuntary hiss of excitement as you do a little hop on the top of your toes. “But _only_ if you’ve finished with everything else I have to teach you to my satisfaction. I don’t want you rushing through this just because you want to fly an X-Wing. It’s a lot different than flying just a standard shuttle. There’s a lot more protocol, a lot more controls, and a lot more you have to be wary of when you’re in the air. As you saw yesterday, it can be extremely dangerous, even without enemy fighters chasing you down.”

               “Sounds like a challenge,” you tell him as you step out into the hallway. As you close the door behind you, you glance up and to the side to notice Poe chuckling as he dips his head, shaking it back and forth in light amusement. You resist the urge to grab his arm as you start walking down the hall, heading towards the hangar just a bit faster than your usual pace. If you had still been a bit drowsy about fifteen minutes ago, that was no longer the case now. Now you were ready and determined to learn just as much as you possibly could. You would not disappoint Commander Dameron, and what was more, you would not disappoint yourself.

               Ahead of you is the shuttle, and Poe’s astromech is waiting at the base of the ramp again, whistling excitedly as you approach. As you get to the base of the ramp, the droid turns to Poe with a series of whistles and beeps before turning and looking up at you with a low whistle.

               “BB-8 says, ‘Hello, Your Highness.’”

               You crouch down to BB-8’s level. “Well, hello to you too. You don’t have to call me ‘Your Highness’ here though; it wouldn’t be right.”

               BB-8 makes a crackling noise before rolling away, eliciting a wide grin from Poe.

               “What was that?”

               “I don’t think you’ve met Leia’s droid yet. I’ll tell you about it on the shuttle. Let’s get her started up first. Remember last night’s reading?”

               You can’t help but admit to yourself that you maybe hadn’t focused as much as you thought you had last night, since you remembered very little about the shuttle’s startup procedure and its capabilities. “A little. Could we review it?”

               Poe motions for you to take the pilot seat on the left before responding. “That’s fair, since it was just a reading. Do you at least remember the major points?”

               You think back to one of the few things you could remember from last night’s reading, a bold large-font outline of the shuttle’s startup procedure. “I think I do. Battery cycle, reactor start, electrical start, control start, weapon and shield check, engine start, then latch release, right?”

               “Yes, just...minus the weapons. We won’t be arming those for any low-altitude flights here on D’Qar. You see that switch right there? What does it do?”

               You follow his outstretched finger to a large blue lever painted with a white stripe on the wall to your left. Underneath it is a silver label plate with the words _Main Power Breaker_ scratched into it. 

               Right at this moment, you wished you hadn’t rushed ahead in the reading and spent more time reading what Poe instructed you to, but you were going to give it your best try. “It connects the onboard batteries to the main power grid, and I-I _think_ it starts the repulsor field generators.”

               “Good,” Poe’s face relaxes in a gentle smile. “How long will the battery carry the repulsor cores and the computer before you have to start the reactor?”

               You think back to something you had read in the theory text about the weight of a ship, but you couldn’t remember the formula to calculate time left on the battery in an emergency. A number in a gray box in the ship’s manual comes to mind, and you decide to take a guess. “On the ground or in high orbit, seventy hours. Much less if we’re flying on repulsors only.”

               “Good.” You let out a sigh of relief underneath your breath as Poe continues. “Flight isn’t quite the limitation though; there was a practice problem in the reading. What if the shuttle was on the surface of Muntjarn and the reactor shut down? How quickly do you have to get it back up before you’re stranded on the surface?”

               You vaguely remember the boxed example problem he was referencing, something about if a ship was sitting on the surface of the galaxy’s most massive known solid planet. You didn’t remember most of it, but you could at least tell Poe what you remembered, hoping he wouldn’t berate you like your mother’s tutors had when you couldn’t recite their lessons back to them perfectly. “That’s the planet full of duranium and baradium, right?”

               “Correct. Why is that important?”

               “The gravity at the surface is something like forty times that of Coruscant because it’s so dense, so if the repulsors lose power, the antigravity fields will collapse and the shuttle and its passengers will be crushed under their own weight. Isn’t it, like, twenty seconds or something for the shuttle?”

               “Yep. Can we start the reactor in that little time, or is it lights out for us if the reactor fails?”

               Poe had found the end of what little you knew about the shuttle’s technical specifications, and you could tell he knew. “I don’t know, honestly. I guess I’ll find out shortly?”

               “That you will.” Poe chuckles to himself. “Be careful about reading too far ahead, since you need to _master_ the basics before you can really grasp the advanced topics, so feel free to ask any and all questions you need to understand the material. Every flight is going to be like this if you want to fly a fighter, since we don’t have time for the lectures and written exams you’d normally undergo in ground school.”

               He pulls a datapad out from under his seat and flips it on. On the screen is the startup procedure for the shuttle from last night’s reading. “We’re going to talk through the whole sequence, then I’ll show you how long it takes to start up the shuttle in an emergency situation so you can answer my earlier question.” He points to the datapad. “So once you’ve connected the battery, what’s next?”

               You look down at the datapad, noting the reactor startup procedure side-by-side with the computer’s safety check procedure. The reactor startup procedure references a switch called the Reactor Disconnect, but you saw no other switch like the main power breaker in the cockpit. “Next we have to connect the reactor to the main power grid so we can start it, but I don’t see the disconnect. Where is it?”

               Poe points to a hatch in the floor between your seats and you pull up on the handle, revealing a large red twist knob underneath labeled _Reactor Disconnect_. “There we go, though don’t turn it yet, since we haven’t shut the main breaker and we’re just talking through it right now. What next?”

               You peek down at the list before continuing. “As soon as we start the reactor, the computer will start doing the safety checks, and it counts down on a readout with six status lights for each reactor module. And that’s…” Poe points to a ring of six black dots on the wall beside him with a blank data readout underneath. “...right there. Okay.”

               “What will the indicating lights show you?”

               You flip to the page of color codes and what they mean on the datapad to double-check your answer before responding. Looking at the table of lights, you pair it with a section of the startup procedure you remembered to show that you had learned _something_ and weren’t just reading out of the book. “They’ll start red, since the reactor is shut down, and then when the checks finish, they’ll turn yellow for the power-up sequence, then turn green when they’re stable at full power.”

               “Good. What if they turn blue or start blinking red?”

               Looking down, the table only says the words _emergency safe_ next to steady blue light, and _module failure_ next to a blinking red one. “Um...I think blue means some kind of emergency low power mode, and blinking red is obviously an emergency shutdown because there’s a problem with the module. I couldn’t tell you the specifics, though.”

               “That’s as much as you’ll need to know about that for today’s lesson. The rest will come later. What’s next in the sequence?”

               “Once the computer finishes the safety checks with no errors, we can approve the checklist. The computer will automatically power up the reactor and connect the control and auxiliary power systems to the grid, and that means we can start the engines and begin our preflight checklist.”

               “All right, I won’t ever expect you to know the entire checklist by heart, that’s why it’s called a check _list_ , but what does the checklist cover?”

               The lesson was coming back to material you remembered better since it was mentioned frequently in your later reading. “We’re checking that we can actually operate all of the shuttle’s control, propulsion and navigation systems, that the safety systems for spaceflight are operating properly, like shields and heaters, that the combat systems are armed and functioning _if we’re using them_ , and that the diagnostic modules are working properly.”

               “Good to see all that hyperspace theory didn’t wipe everything out last night,” Poe says with a light laugh. “And then?”

               “We get a status update from Control, and they’ll give us clearance to unlatch and take off.”

               Poe counts on his fingers for a moment before replying. “Good. Now, before we start, you need to know how the controls are set up since this is a Sienar shuttle and it’s a bit different from the Incom system we were flying yesterday. For one, instead of just setting an engine speed like yesterday, you have to balance the engine thrust with the damping effect of the stabilizers to maintain speed. Also, the repulsors on the shuttles are configured to allow you to move laterally and vertically so you can dock with another ship without rolling. There’s a total of four control schemes, two for each of us, making us both technically copilots in this shuttle.”

               “The ‘pilot’ controls engine thrust, roll, yaw and pitch, and the ‘copilot’ controls lateral stability and rendezvous maneuvering. There’s several other functions split between us, but we’ll cover those in later lessons. For now, what you need to know is that the two levers on your left control engine power and nozzles, the pedals at your feet control yaw stability, and the stick on your right controls pitch, roll, and primary weapons. Speaking of which…”

               Poe reaches under his seat and produces a set of what look like plastic caps and places them over the two red buttons and what looked like a trigger on the control stick. “Don’t want to have an accident on your first real day out, and I still need to teach you about weapon discipline. Just don’t touch anything under the caps and we’ll be fine. Now, are you ready to fly for real?”

               You nod your head up and down excitedly. This was why you had come to D’Qar, what you had been waiting for. You were finally going to fly a ship for real and you could almost feel the blood pumping faster through your veins as adrenaline coursed through your body.

               “Good, shut the main power breaker. I’ll connect the reactor so you can see the minimum startup time.”

               As you push the blue lever up to shut the main breaker, Poe turns the knob for the reactor. You can hear a low hum that you assumed was the reactor computer starting up the checks. “Now we wait. Look here, I’ve started the clock.” You look over at Poe and note that the ring of dots on the wall is now red, with the readout underneath rapidly counting down from a number in the twenty thousands. Underneath you, the low hum is frequently interrupted by short whines as the seconds tick by. Finally, the noise goes back to just a low hum and the countdown stops on one, the number blinking as Poe stops the timer on his wrist comm.

               “Forty-three seconds. Ready to visit Muntjarn today?”

               You freeze for a second before you realize Poe is kidding and quickly shake your head in an attempt to conceal your blush. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t want to be reduced to a sheet of scrap in the Outer Rim just yet, thanks.”

               “I thought not. There’s the small problem of high-grav suits in rather short supply, so we’d be underdressed for the occasion, anyway. This blinking ‘ _1_ ’ means that all the startup safety checks are complete and there’s only one step left to start the reactor, this button right here. It’s about to get a little loud, so I’ll explain after it finishes.”

               Poe presses a small button next to the display, labeled _Acknowledge_ , and the display changes from a flashing _1_ to what looked like a progress bar. Beneath you, the hum of the reactor slowly increases in pitch as the progress bar continues toward the right side of the display. The sound of the reactor quickly reaches a whine that drowns out your thoughts, and just as you’re about to ask Poe if something was wrong, the whine cuts to silence. On the wall, the progress bar has reached the right side, blinking a few times before going blank.

               “Pressing that button acknowledges the safety checklist and grants the computer permission to actually power up the reactor; that’s the whining noise you heard. Once the reactor is stable at rated power, the computer activates an acoustic jammer so we don’t go crazy from the sound of the reactor.”

               The explanation seemed straightforward except for what seemed like an obvious oversight. “Why not just jam it from the start? Why wait until the end?”

               From the look Poe gives you in return, you wonder if you had suddenly sprouted a second head or some other unbecoming feature. Did you miss something that serious in last night’s reading? You start fidgeting in your chair self-consciously, wishing you had never asked the question, all residual confidence quickly fading from your grasp. How were you ever going to convince him to keep instructing you if you couldn’t even get the startup sequence right?

               Fortunately, Poe seems to realize something important, and softens his expression as his lips pull back to reveal a sheepish grin.

               “Don’t be embarrassed. You couldn’t have known the answer from the reading, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’ve been flying for so long that sometimes I take certain things for granted. The reason the acoustic dampers don’t kick in immediately is because most living things are innately more sensitive to subtle differences in sound than computers are. If something was wrong with the reactor during startup, the pilot needs to be able to listen to it as it powers up for any sign that something is wrong, and a computer can’t do that perfectly.”

               The look on your face clearly communicated your hazy understanding of his explanation, as Poe begins churning the air with one hand searching for a new explanation. His hand stops as a new idea comes to him.

               “Ever use a protocol droid?”

               You nod in response.

               “What language did the visitors speak?”

               “Aqualish Huttese.”

               Poe’s eyes light up at this response as he continues, “Perfect. Did you ever notice yourself straining to listen to the Aqualish’s tone of voice when the droid’s translation seemed strange?”

               You think back to the encounter in Draboon’s throne room and nod.

               “Even the best protocol droids miss certain subtle changes in tone and quality, and the same goes for a reactor control computer. If you ever hear something different when the reactor starts up, it’s time to hit the big red button and start troubleshooting.” Poe lifts a small panel cover under the reactor status readout to show you a round red button underneath emblazoned with the words _Emergency Shutdown_. After a few seconds, Poe checks his wrist comm with a small hum of approval. “Right on schedule. By now, the power grid is fully warmed up, so it’s time for the preflight check. Pull up chapter seventeen of the manual.”

               You bring up the chapter and find the three familiar buttons linking to subsections of the checklist, labeled _Operational, Comprehensive,_ and _Emergent_. “Which checklist are we using today? All the later reading kept talking about the comprehensive list, though there’s over seven thousand items on there. Do we have time to do that one and fly as well today?”

               Poe smiles with amusement as he jerks his head forward in a firm nod. “The _later_ reading only ever emphasizes the comprehensive list since that’s the checklist we use to go into space after we’ve done any amount of maintenance on the shuttle. If you remember some of the category headers, most of it is actually done by the maintenance and ground crews. The pilots’ portion of the comprehensive checklist is exactly the same as the operational checklist, so open that one up.”

               You tap the button for the operational checklist, and are relieved to see only five category headings: _Navigation_ , _Shielding_ , _Weapons_ , _Repulsor Arrays_ , and _Control Surfaces_ , each containing no more than thirty items to check.

               “If you remember from your reading, each heading is only required if you intend to use that system. Since we’ll be sticking fairly close to base and we’re flying below thirty thousand meters, we won’t need to check weapons or shielding, so that shortens the checklist significantly.”

               You nod your head forward in understanding as you swipe at the headings for weapons and shields, leaving only the other three headings. A quick tap expands the Navigation heading into a list of sixteen things to check in order, starting with simple things like power available to the computer and ending with verification of hyperspace core integrity.

               Poe walks you through each item quickly, pointing to the screen to check, the button to tap, or the lever to jog, explaining each one along the way as you check them off the list one by one. Once you’ve verified all the navigation items are in working order, you proceed to the Repulsor Arrays section. Poe walks you through the steps patiently, from syncing the repulsors to verifying each could be independently powered up and down without any errors. Once you reach the last two steps, however, Poe motions for you to pause. On the datapad, the two steps read _Vent generator core_ and _Float craft_.

               “What’s wrong?”

               Poe points through the cockpit window to the people working on the contents of a large crate nearby. “Sienar repulsor cores always need to be vented before takeoff to prevent buildup over time, but _never_ vent any system fluids with people nearby. Most of them are harmless, but some core gel formulas are extremely hazardous to certain species, so as a best practice we train our crews to treat all repulsor system fluids as dangerous so no one gets hurt.”

               Poe pulls up on what looked like a microphone tucked into the control console in front of him and presses a button next to it as he speaks.

               “All personnel stand clear of shuttle Delta Four. Performing a three-second repulsor core vent. All personnel stand clear.”

               Outside the window, the crew gathered around the crate stops what they’re doing and jog a short distance away, huddling into a small cluster as a fluttering Toydarian counts them. Once he seems satisfied with the count, he turns to look around the nearby hangar area before sending Poe a quick salute.

               “Does that mean everyone’s clear?”

               “Exactly that. On the console, press that yellow button to vent the core. I’ll count down for you.”

               On the console, you find the yellow button in the repulsor area and press it, hearing a loud hiss beneath you while Poe counts down. “Two, one, stop.”

               You quickly release your finger and the hiss stops. Poe checks the screen in front of you and makes a sound of approval. “Fluid inventory is good, so now we can float the ship and start on the engine and stabilizer checks. See the two levers between our consoles? The smaller one on the left shifts the repulsors to full power. Repulsor control on larger ships is more complicated than a single lever, but the concept is the same: taking the repulsors to full power allows the computer to automatically compensate for the shuttle’s weight, floating us at a fixed distance from the ground.”

               Poe motions to the lever and you gently push up on it until it clicks into place. This time, there were no noises to be heard or alarms to be remedied, just the realization that the view outside the cockpit windows had shifted. You could now see just over the tops of the crates outside as the shuttle bobbed slightly beneath you, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You had taken many trips in ships of all sizes, but never could you have predicted the exhilaration of such a simple task as floating a shuttle. You had flown in many ships, but this one was floating because _you_ had floated it.

               With a single tap, the repulsor array checklist was done, and the only thing still holding you to the ground was the control checks. A quick check showed only six steps left to complete.

               “Now the fun begins,” Poe says with a grin of amusement. “Lucky for you, we can’t actually finish the checklist inside the hangar since we have to unfold the stabilizers. Flight communications are part of tonight’s reading so I’ll handle the clearance procedure today, but it’s your turn tomorrow, so be ready.” You simply nod in response as Poe retrieves a small microphone from the console in front of you.

               “D’Qar Strategic Control, Commander Dameron. Shuttle Delta Four is powered and floated on internal power. Operating forward as Lapis Two under instruction of Black Leader commanding, requesting conditions report and detachment of ground umbilicals for flight operations.”

               “Roger, Black Leader. Tracking has received your flight plan with modifications pending. Lapis Two may move freely about Temple Point within grid three-seven-two by five-three-seven, operational floor two thousand meters, twenty-five thousand meter ceiling. Current visibility one hundred kilometers, no hazes. Full shielding required above fifty-seven thousand meters due to local ring decay. Hold for latch release authorization.”

               Poe looks slightly puzzled as he responds. “Control, Black Leader. Acknowledge new restricted flight envelope. Request reason for new operational restrictions and launch delay.”

               “Black Leader, Control. New intelligence received concerning Lodestone. Further details restricted pending formal briefing upon your return from flight operations. New envelope to facilitate fighter perimeter support. Red Squadron currently briefing sortie. Cordon scramble ETA seventeen minutes.”

               Poe sighs and shakes his head. “Roger, Control. Delta Four standing by for release.”

               “What was that about?” Something was up, something potentially dangerous, and you wanted to know just what that was.

               “Just another day in the life of the Resistance. Might be something, might not be; you can never be too careful. Anyways, we have some downtime, so we might as well talk about the repulsors while we’re sitting on them. What do you remember from your reading?”

               You had skimmed through the chapter on repulsor theory, but you could remember some major points about masses and gravity fields. “I don’t remember too much, just that it cancels the effect of gravity on the ship by pushing back on the planet as hard as gravity pulls.”

               “Does it work under all conditions, or are there special considerations?”

               Poe’s prompting was bringing some hazy details to the front of your memory. You weren’t confident in what you thought you knew, but you were going to answer his questions as best you could. “It’s a rough estimation since it depends on planet density, but repulsors only really work within a few planetary diameters, otherwise it’s too far away to push against.”

               “Remember anything else?”

               You searched your memory, but you were coming up blank. “No, that’s about all I can remember.”

               “And that’s fine,” Poe reassures you. “That’s actually all that the assigned reading covered concerning repulsor theory. Going beyond the reading, repulsors are good for much more than flight. Has anyone ever talked to you about how Draboon’s Merchant Corps defends itself from pirates without any real fighter escorts?”

               The thought had never occurred to you. A single typical lapis shipment represented a small fortune, and pirates often sought to seize the ships. During the trade minister’s briefings on the Merchant Corps, however, you rarely ever heard of a trade vessel being lost, only that all attackers had retreated or been destroyed. The sheer size of the ships alone would not be enough to deter an ambitious raiding force, so you supposed Poe was hinting that the answer lay in the ships’ repulsors. You turn back to Poe with a small shake of your head.

               “It’s something most people wouldn’t think of since most ships are fairly light, but pirates, merchants, fighter escorts, and warship captains are intimately familiar with the tactic. It’ll make perfect sense to you with a little extra info the chapter didn’t cover, so bear with me. What’s the mass of a standard Draboonian lapis shipment?”

               You weren’t sure what this had to do with the lesson, but you decided to play along. “Four hundred and twenty thousand standard tonnes for orbital receipt. Less for a surface delivery.”

               “That doesn’t include the mass of the ship itself, which adds another two hundred thousand or so, correct?”

               You nod in response.

               “For comparison, this shuttle is just over a hundred tonnes, so it only requires a single small core to run the repulsor array. A fully loaded Draboonian cargo ship, however, needs several massive repulsor cores to have any hope of making a surface delivery without crashing. What if gravity was no longer a concern, however, traveling through deep space on the way to the customer? Ever notice something unusual about the cargo ship designs back at home?”

               You suddenly realized exactly what Poe was getting at. Repulsors pushed both ways, so Draboon’s Merchant Corps didn’t need a fighter escort when they could just use the mass of the ship itself as a weapon. Thinking back to the last time you saw one, Draboon’s merchant ships sported several additional repulsor arrays around the ship besides the main bank in the ship’s belly. “Yes, Draboon’s design is unusual. Before I say what I’m thinking, are repulsors and tractor beams basically the same thing?”

               Poe grins at this, sensing your understanding. “Exactly right.”

               “So check if I understand this right. The merchant ships are several hundred thousand tonnes fully loaded, so they have the massive main repulsor arrays to suspend it, and the _other_ ones all around it to help steer, I guess?”

               Poe nods and stays silent, his expression signaling you to continue.

               “Once they leave the main port at Arceus, the local security fighters follow them up. Wait...” You were worried you had found a flaw in your theory, but you remembered the fighters always came back, so you pressed on, incorporating something you had read just before Poe had arrived outside your door. “Once they reach, what is it, five planetary diameters? The repulsors no longer work for propulsion.”

               “Six.”

               “Okay. Six diameters. They can’t jump to hyperspace until gravity is less than seven percent of Coruscant standard, though, which is, hang on.” You did the math in your head, finally finding a real chance to prove what you knew to Poe. “For Draboon, the hyperspace horizon should be eighteen diameters, so there’s a long window of sublight travel, even if they’re running the engines at maximum, though that’s not the real danger.”

               By now, Poe had adopted a look of pride as he picks up his datapad, as if he was taking notes on your recitation. Hearing no comment from him, you press on, your theory falling into place as you speak, pieced together from the multiple briefings you had endured in your mother’s throne room.

               “Draboon has one major strategic shipping weakness, the Gargon system. All merchant ships have to drop out of hyperspace to navigate the system’s heavy rocky debris on the way to the Hydian Way since ships of that size can’t really maneuver in hyperspace. Most of the pirate attacks happen there, yet the captains almost seem to _relish_ fighting the pirates there. Ordinarily, debris fields should offer an ideal ambush zone, but the captains mentioned something they call Jerol’s Hell…what?”

               Poe clearly had no idea what you were talking about. “Wait. I’m keeping up so far except for one thing. Who’s Jerol?”

               You realized you had taken a key facet of your culture for granted, and took a moment to explain. “Jerol is Draboon’s patroness of chaos and destruction. I can explain more about Draboon’s culture when we have more than five minutes, because I _really_ want to make sure I’m right about this before we take off.” If you could redeem yourself from Poe’s disappointment that you had rushed ahead, perhaps you might show him that you could progress faster through the flight lessons and actually fly an X-Wing. Poe raises an eyebrow as he checks his wrist comm, signaling that there wasn’t much time left. A sudden thought hits you, one you decide to test.

               “Wait. You’ve actually seen the merchants in action, haven’t you?”

               “Yes, I happened to see it on my way to your planet the first time, and it’s quite an awesome and terrifying sight. Continue. I’m curious to see if what you’re thinking matches up.”

               Pressure, but nothing you couldn’t handle. “So if repulsors can be reversed to act like tractor beams, the ship is massive, and has multiple cores, so the crew could alternate the cores to push and pull the debris around them, or even the pirates’ ships too.” You gasp as you realize the implication of your explanation, and Poe’s look of satisfaction confirms it. “Tell me.”

               “You’re spot-on. It’s more chaotic than anyone could imagine. The crews actually travel in sublight with the ship spinning, so the debris around the ship is whipped into a vortex of destruction. The amateur pirates I saw tried to engage the ship _inside_ the debris ring, thinking it was safe, only to be ripped apart by the ship’s intense gravitational reversals near the arrays. Some of the smarter ones tried keeping their distance and attempted a direct cannon hit on one of the arrays, but it would take an Imperial Super Star Destroyer to get through that debris cloud. Even keeping their distance, the pirates don’t stand a chance when the crew stops the rotation and blasts the debris cloud outwards.”

               Thinking about the defense of your planet, and given the recent whispers of the First Order’s growing power, you wondered something. “Can repulsor arrays be used for planetary defense?”

               Poe frowns a bit before replying. “Yes, but at an exorbitant cost. Corellia’s Five Worlds used massive repulsor arrays to fight Imperial capital ships towards the end of the Civil War, and it nearly led to the destruction of Atzerri when it was driven off its orbit by a prolonged burst. It took several months to restore the normal orbit, and the planet’s native life still hasn’t recovered from the climate shock. Draboon would do well to heed the lesson of the Five Worlds. Every strategy of war comes at a cost, even in the name of defense.”

               This was food for thought. You wondered if your mother had considered this plan of defense before, or perhaps she had ruled it out entirely. Did she already have the education that you were being exposed to, or was she simply following the advice of her captains in this regard? You turn to look at Poe before both of your thoughts are interrupted by the chirp of the console comm.

               “Red Two here, come in, Black Leader.”

               Poe responds via his wrist comm. “Black Leader here. Talk to me, Red Squadron.”

               “There’s been a change of plans, sir. Dagger Leader has command of the sortie. He’ll fill you in on the way up.”

After a pause, a deeper, more authoritarian, voice chimes in. “Black Leader, I’m reading your combat systems secured. You might need them when you saddle up.”

               Poe looks impatient, tapping his fingers on the edge of the console, much like your mother had when one of her ministers was less than forthright in a meeting. “Dagger Leader, let’s pick this up on command frequency.”

               “Copy, Black Leader. Switching to command.”

               Poe presses a small button on his wrist comm and peeks at you before talking. “Arana. Dameron here, check.”

               “I hear you, Poe.”

               From the tone in his voice, these two were friends at the very least, to instantly drop the formal mode of comms you had been hearing.

               “Mind telling me what’s going on, Iolo? I’m half an hour behind schedule with no word from Control, and I’d really like not to scrap this lesson.”

               “No need for that, Poe. This is just a precaution. Tracking picked up an artifact from the asteroid ring, so I’m going up with Dex in heavy alphas to bring it down. I had Control narrow your envelope just to be safe since we’re bringing it down on the bombing range, but you’re fine to expand your envelope west if you need full power ops. Switching back to tactical. I’m holding Red Squadron until your combat systems are up, so get moving.”

               The comm cuts out abruptly with a short beep.

               Poe sits motionless for a short moment, then points to your datapad. “You’re going to want to pull up the weapon and shield checklist just to follow along. We’re really behind, so I’ll finish the checklist so you get some useful flight time today.” If that was what it took for you to learn how to fly, so be it. You pulled up the dismissed sections and added them back into the checklist.

               “Control, Black Leader. Detaching umbilicals for combat prep.”

               “Roger, Black Leader. Stand by.”

               Outside the shuttle, you can hear the Controller’s voice over the hangar speakers. “Ground Crew Besh, Launch Delta Four. Delta Four launching, all personnel stand clear of Blast Pad Two. Red Crew, stand by for post-launch on Starfighter Alley. Launch Team three, report to the flight line.”

               Outside, a flurry of activity begins in the hangar, and groups of what looked like mechanics and several droids of all types traversed the hangar in what looked like a well-rehearsed dance. Under the shuttle, you could hear a series of snaps and hisses before a helmeted Gran appears in front of the shuttle, tapping one open hand on top of his helmet then kneeling and pointing to your left.

               Poe picks up the microphone from the console, and you hear his voice again projecting outside the shuttle. “Delta Four moving. Delta Four moving.” He turns to you and says, “That tap and kneel means we’re clear and we need to go that way. Following along?” You could only manage a nod in response. Not only were you finally on your way to fly, there was a hint of danger to it, making it all the more exciting. Your mother would chide your line of thinking, but that was far from your most pressing concern right now.

               Poe takes his controls in his hands, and the shuttle begins gliding out of the hangar, stopping over a red shaded square on the duracrete apron outside. He begins flipping a series of switches, checking various dials and lights after each one, talking back and forth with himself in a way that made it clear that this part of the checklist was meant for two people.

               “Shield power. _Check_. Forward projectors. _Check_. Aft projectors. _Check_. Lateral stabilizers. _Pending. We’ll get back to those_. Primary shield generator. _Check_. Auxiliary generator. _Check_. Primary and secondary load balancers. _Check._ Emergency reserve. _Ninety-five percent. Check. Shield check complete pending stabilizers_. Deploying stabilizers port and starboard. Stand by.”

               You followed along on your datapad, noting the switches and dials covered by each step, reminding yourself to ask him what specifically he was looking for during each step. On your left, you notice movement outside the window, and you crane your neck to see around the side of the shuttle. The wing, or stabilizer as Poe called it, was unfolding from its upright position and locking into its normal flight position. Next to you, Poe continues switching back and forth between the two voices, never once consulting the list as he completed the checks.

               “ _Stabilizers locked and powered. Shields nominal._ Roger. Commencing weapon system checks. Disruptor mines. _Not loaded_. Concussion missiles. _Not loaded_. Proton torpedoes. _One attached. Training yield._ Fire control computer. _Active._ Wingtip cannons. _Pivoting. Hold. Check. Armed._ Axial cannons. _Checking. Armed._ Student interlocks. _Safe._ Weapon check complete. _I concur._ All combat systems ready. _I concur. Inform the squad_.”

               Poe picks up his wrist comm again. “Dagger Detail, Red Squadron, Delta Four. All combat systems armed and ready. Spinning up main engines.”

               The authoritarian voice speaks again. “Roger, Black Leader. All fighters, start engines and report.”

               Outside, you can see a row of red-painted X-Wings start their engines, the red glow again reminding you that you really needed to do well here to fly one. At the end of the line, you can see two wedge-shaped fighters that looked a lot like the fighters back home on Draboon. If they were anything alike, then perhaps your flying didn’t have to end when you left D’Qar. Once the engines of the X-Wing nearest you glowed brilliant red, a chorus of voices begins reporting in.

               “Red Two standing by.”

               “Red Three standing by.”

               “Red Four standing by.”

               “Red Five standing by.”

               “Dagger Two standing by.”

               “Dagger Leader ready. All fighters, by series, launch!”

               Poe pulls the large lever between the two consoles, and you hear the unmistakable sound of the engines powering up behind you. Outside, the fighters lift off and speed away one by one at a steady rhythm. Finally, as the last wedge-shaped fighter flies away, the deep voice comes back. “All fighters away, Black Leader. See you back on the ground.”

               “Roger, Dagger Leader. See you back on the ground.”

               Poe turns to you and briefly glances at your checklist. “All engines at full power. Preflight checks are complete, _Captain_.” He glances up at you and winks before turning back to the checklist.

 _Captain_. He may have been kidding, but you could get used to the title. You check off the last thing on the list before you reply. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

               Poe returns to his controls and the shuttle rises into the air. Once it’s hovering a fair distance from the ground, Poe turns to you, his fingers wiggling in the air, showing the control was all yours. “You know what to do. We need to go that way.” You note the direction he’s pointing, and slowly rotate the shuttle until it was pointing the right direction. Looking down, you check that you have the controls right before slowly pushing forward on the lever for engine thrust, relishing the feel of the shuttle accelerating under your control.

               As the trees flash by underneath you, the shuttle comm clicks a few times before the Controller’s voice comes in. “Control to Lapis Two. Check.”

               Lapis Two. Was that what they were calling you? You look at Poe for confirmation, and he just nods his head toward the console in response. Another test. You remembered the format you had heard the others use, and as you reached for the comm button, you hoped you used it right.

               “Lapis Two to Control. Check.”

               “We read you, Lapis Two. Red Squadron has secured Temple Point. Maintain course and speed to flight station.”

               “Understood, Control. Maintaining course and speed.” You let go of the comm button and peek over at Poe.

               “That wasn’t in the reading assignment, but how did I do?”

               Poe’s expression is unreadable as he considers you.

               “That depends. Do you understand everything you heard and said?”

               Truthfully, you didn’t, not quite, but you had sounded confident doing it. “Only the Lapis and course parts. I worked out that Lapis Two was me. I guess my mother would be Lapis Leader or something like that? Well, if she ever could _stoop_ to flying, that is. The course and speed part was obvious, but that’s about it.”

               Poe’s expression softens to what looks like approval. “Not bad for your first comm chain. Think back to when I first called Control. I told them we would ‘operate forward as Lapis Two.’ Do you remember?”

               You nod in reply.

               “That told them that once we were in the air, you officially had control of the shuttle as Captain, including the comms, so they were _checking_ if you were reachable. I needed to see how you reacted to them before figuring out how much to assign for tonight’s homework. Based on that, I think you’ll be ready for the whole manual.” Poe is interrupted by the console comm clicking a few times, signaling that someone is about to talk. “Looks like you’re up again, Captain.”

               “Control to Lapis Two and Red Squadron. Delta Four is in the envelope. Maintain sector station, time is marked for thirty minutes of maneuvers. Dagger Detail returning to base. Malignant anomaly found in orbit and neutralized. All fighters stand by for intercept. Launching all fighters in seven minutes.”

               That didn’t sound good. 

               “Should we go back?”

               Poe shakes his head immediately. “No, the anomaly was neutralized, so it’s time to get a feel for the shuttle and how it moves. Slow us down to a full stop and hover.”

               You do as Poe says, gently pulling back on the engine control until the shuttle comes to a complete stop, both speed dials reading zero. You look over at Poe for the next prompt.

               “Good. For the next couple of minutes, get a feel for how the shuttle moves using repulsors _only_. Once you’ve got the hang of that, we’ll do engines and stabilizers only, then put all three together. Got it?”

               You nod in response as you lean forward to flick a switch labeled _Engine Lockout_. There’s a brief pause as you wait for him to stop you, but he doesn’t, so you flick it and hear the engines subtly slow to an idle. Poe gives a small nod of approval as you take the controls again, sliding the shuttle to the right, left, rotating, climbing and falling on repulsor power only, getting a feel for the shuttle’s repulsor capabilities. Next, Poe locked out the repulsors and restored the engines, directing you to use only the right stick to move. Quickly, you found that you missed having the repulsors automatically kick in and dampen the shuttle’s movements, instead having to learn to move the shuttle in the opposite direction to stop a roll or turn. Finally, Poe restored the normal shuttle controls and waved one finger in a circle in the air.

 _Fly away_.

               You were only too happy to do so.

* * *

 

               “You did good work today,” Poe says appreciatively, and you can’t help but roll your shoulders as you walk down the familiar hallways of the base. You had impressed Poe, and while you couldn’t deny that you were more than just a little proud of that fact, you also had to admit that you hadn’t done as well as you would have liked to. In your ideal world, you would have raced through each formula and protocol you had perused last night, committing them to memory so that you could spit them back to Poe in a rapid fire series of comprehensible responses. You knew you had to be realistic with yourself and your own limitations, but a part of you didn’t want to be.

               “Thanks,” you offer, refusing to let Poe in on the doubts you were experiencing while he was walking right alongside you. You knew he would only chide your way of thinking, and you didn’t want him to think that you were already entertaining thoughts of failure on what had been your first real test. If he suspected as much, he might reconsider teaching you altogether, and that was not something that you were going to permit, well, if you could help it. Although your words probably had more say on Draboon, you weren’t _on_ Draboon now, and Commander Dameron was in charge here. If he wanted to put an end to your training, all he would have to do is snap his fingers and it would most likely be done.

               “I mean it,” Poe continues, seemingly unaware of your inner turmoil. “You should be proud of yourself. You did just fine even with the little _interruption_. Okay, maybe you didn’t memorize as much as you would have liked to last night, but like I said, you shouldn’t get too far ahead of yourself. All things in good time, right?”

               “All things in good time,” you reply with a firm nod of your head, and Poe offers you a tight-lipped smile as he stops in the intersection of the corridors leading down and away to your room.

               “Now, are you going to head back to your quarters to study some more, or would you like to meet a few people? They probably won’t all be there, I know they were debriefing this morning’s incident, but if you’d like…”

               “Sure,” you say quickly as you nod your head. Poe’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, as if he had thought it would take much more convincing to get you to join him. “Well, I just mean, I spent all last night studying and I didn’t really get anywhere. If I keep on going, I’m probably just going to tucker myself out, so maybe it’s good to take a break and meet everyone.” You roll your shoulders lazily. “Otherwise it’s going to get awkward if I just remain holed up in my room all the time. I don’t want people to think I’m shy or unfriendly or something along those lines.”

               This is what you said aloud, but in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but register the other reason why you were there as well. You were there to learn how to be a pilot, yes, that was one part of the arrangement, but your mother was also allocating substantial funds to the Resistance, and she wanted to know exactly what the Resistance was doing with that money. Besides that, you would have to get along with all sorts of people once you became Queen, and so you assumed this could be another lesson as well, perhaps in social graces. You couldn’t deny that you were curious about who these people were and what circumstances had transpired in their lives to lead them to forsake their planets and join in with the Resistance, and you knew implicitly that you were going to have to do your best as a diplomatic representative of Draboon to do your best to convey the prominence of your planet.

               “No one is going to think that,” Poe assures you, but even still, he bows slightly as he extends one arm, gesturing for you to proceed down to the mess hall. “Please.”

               “After you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all enjoying the story so far!! Next week is a little less flight heavy as we get to meet Snap and Jess and all of the rest of the members of Black Squadron!!


	4. Chapter 4

You weren’t nervous.

No way.

Not even a little bit.

               To tell the truth, there was no reason why you should be nervous. You were the Princess of Draboon, set to be Queen someday, and in terms of rank, these people were beneath you. You weren’t exactly fond of taking that into consideration, and to be honest, it almost disappointed you that that was one of the first thoughts that popped into your head. It was your mother talking, and in the back of your mind you can practically hear her telling you that when you are sitting on that chair, _everyone_ is beneath you.

_“This is my planet. These are my rules. If I speak, I expect people to listen and if they don’t, you can be sure that they will be firmly reprimanded for their insolence.”_

But you were not on Draboon, you were on D’Qar, and this was Leia’s base. If anything, it was hard to consider yourself anything _but_ beneath them. While you viewed the galaxy from the relative safety of your throne room, they were actually out there risking their lives on ships that you could only dream of piloting. No, they were far superior to you in that regard, and you resolved to say as little as possible, so you could listen and learn. You were here to find out just what your mother’s funds were being allocated for, and you figured listening to the stories of their adventures would be the best way to do it.

               If, of course, they would share them, but that didn’t seem to be a problem as Poe sat you down at a round table in a far corner of the mess hall. Everyone at the table was talking animatedly to each other, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place as Poe slipped into a seat beside you. For a moment they almost took no notice of your arrival, and you almost wanted to shuffle awkwardly back to your quarters before you were noticed until a woman with pale blonde hair and dark skin turned towards Poe, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Well, look who’s finally joining us. And you’ve brought a friend.”

               “Yeah,” Poe replies good-naturedly as he turns to gesture towards you. As Poe says your name and introduces you to the table, you’re suddenly aware of how all the other conversations had apparently ceased the moment that she acknowledged Poe, as if this was something that happened often. You weren’t sure if it said more about Poe as a leader or about them as a team, but whatever the case, you couldn’t help but make the observation regardless. Nevertheless, everyone greets you brightly, their words of greeting fumbling over each other in a chorus of voices, and you just smile politely and nod at them each in turn, trying not to pay too much attention to one over another as you looked around at each of them.

               “Now,” Poe says as he commences introductions, staring with the female that had greeted him. She was sitting directly across from you, and Poe sticks his arm out as he points to her. “That’s Karé Kun. She and Iolo were part of my Rapier Squadron back with the New Republic and decided to join the Resistance with me after the _Yissira Zyde_ incident.” He jerks his thumb over to the Keshian male who gives you a small wave of greeting while Karé smiles brightly in your direction. “Karé is now Captain of Stiletto Squadron, and Iolo over here is Captain of Dagger Squadron, though you know him better as Dagger Leader.”

               You dip your head forward as you puzzle over this for a moment. You knew Poe had been a Commander in the New Republic fleet, and both of his comrades had served underneath him. And yet, they had apparently both been promoted to Captain upon arrival at the Resistance, where Poe had maintained his rank as a Commander without any sort of promotion? It struck you as odd, but then again, the galaxy’s various military ranks were not really your forte and you couldn’t possibly think of a single conversation where calling attention to this wouldn’t be seen as rude.

               “Congratulations,” you say as earnestly as you can muster. “The capabilities of the pilots that serve the New Republic are legend, and I’m sure the Resistance appreciates having you both here to lead them through such troubling times.”

               They both nod their heads forward in appreciation as Poe continues the introductions, gesturing towards two people on his right. “Over there is Temmin Wexley, but you can just call him Snap. He’s from Akiva, and he was a pilot for the New Republic Starfleet before he came over here. Unlike the rest of us, he actually fought at the Battle of Jakku.” Snap bids you a quick word of greeting, and you formally dip your head as he gestures to the girl to Snap’s left. “And that over there from Dandoran is Jessika Pava. She recovered from the death dive.”

               “Jess,” she quickly interjects, and you can’t help but let a small smile press at the corners of your lips as Poe tilts his head to the side in consideration.

               “Jess,” he corrects himself before continuing, gesturing to two more people off to your left, pointing specifically to a male Duros with gleaming red eyes and bright green skin. “That’s L’ulo, he’s the pilot for our A-Wing and he’s been working with the General since before I was even born.” He pauses as he introduces the male Abednedo with brown mottled skin sitting immediately to your left. “And that’s Oddy Muva. He’s the primary technician for Black Squadron and he’s quickly becoming a damned good pilot.” You can tell by the way Oddy seems to shuffle awkwardly around this praise that he was still in training, and you can’t help but perk up at this piece of news.

               “Are you in training to be a pilot too?” you ask as you lean towards him, and Oddy just nods his head forward a few times in confirmation.

               “In training,” he repeats, as if he was less than confident about his own skills, and while you want to tell him that you should talk some time and compare notes, you can’t help but feel a bit stunted by your position. Would that be appropriate? What would your mother say? You want to say something about how his skills are probably far superior than yours, but you knew better than to make such a deprecating comment in front of so many others.

               “Everyone has to start somewhere,” you say as you gesture around the table. “And you have so many friends here encouraging you to succeed. As long as you have the drive, I have no doubt that you can accomplish whatever you set your mind to.” The comment is a bit stiff and formal, even to your own ears, but he seems to appreciate the comment nonetheless as L’ulo turns back to you.

               “So you’re from Draboon,” he says, nodding quietly to himself. “I actually had the chance to visit there some time ago. Tell me, are the lapis gems still as blue as I remember?”

               “Probably bluer,” you concede immediately as you let your finger wrap around one of your cobalt curls. “But life on Draboon seems comparatively mundane, compared to the adventures you all must have experienced. Tell me, what has life with the Resistance been like?”

               There’s silence for a moment as no one volunteers any information. If anything, they all look at each other nervously, as though they’re not quite sure who should talk first. “Well,” Poe begins, and if you’re not mistaken, a bit awkwardly. “It’s our job to find the things we’ll need to beat them when things start to heat up, and to help the New Republic understand that they’re a real threat to the galaxy so the Senate can formalize a plan of action to take against them.”

               “If you’re looking for details of the missions that we’ve been on, I’m sure Poe’s already told you that that information is unfortunately classified,” Iolo says as he turns his attention to Poe, and you open your mouth to speak, but no words come out.

               “I, uh, I hadn’t mentioned that,” Poe says as he shakes his head. “But, uh, yeah, that information is, uh, it’s classified, even this morning. Sorry.”

               “No, I shouldn’t have asked,” you reply evenly as you glance around in turn. “I’m sure what you all have faced is tantamount to the security of the galaxy, and I want to thank you all for your services.” There’s a distinct pause, and no one seems to be sure quite what to say before you decide to venture forwards. “So the topic of your adventures might be classified, but fortunately my planet is not. What is it you would like to know?”

               “I’ve never even heard of Draboon,” Jess admits after another short pause, and you turn towards her, as if to converse with her directly. “What system is it in?”

               “The Gramare system,” you tell her. “It’s not a very large system. We only have six other planets, one rocky and five gas. One of the gas planets, Rezare, has a moon that’s suited for colonization. The Crown has been attempting to colonize it due to the rich deposits of the principal components of _beskar_ at its core, but so far to no avail.”

               “That beskar could be quite profitable to the right people,” L’ulo seems to mutter to himself as he rubs his jaw with one large green hand, but you don’t want to get in an argument over politics or cultural heritage, so you quickly continue.

               “Draboon itself is a medium-sized terran world, although it is comprised of a fair bit of jungle. We have two moons, Irana and Forzin, each named for the two divine guides of the traditional religion, which is actually pretty interesting from an astrological point of view. We have a thirty-one standard hour rotational period there, which is slow for a planet of Draboon’s size, and our scientists have theorized that this is due to an impact with a massive body that split and formed our two moons far in the past. You can actually see where they have been struck, as there’s an extremely visible massive scar near the equator.”

               “Thirty-one hours,” Snap muses under his breath. “So your days and nights must be incredibly long then, huh?”

               “They are,” you agree with a quick nod of your head. “Which creates really substantial differences between our midday and midnight temperatures. This places a lot of stress on Draboon’s crust and while it makes mining for our legendary lapis easier, it does make it a _bit_ more hazardous.” The specifics of Draboon’s seismology were not something that you really wanted to get into, and so you quickly jump into another topic. “But it also means that the flora of our planet are extremely resistant to wild temperature fluctuations. Our planet’s symbiote mosses that are found in our jungles are actually capable of generating large amounts of heat to warm the jungle during the night. Besides that, it’s also led to the reputation that Draboonians never sleep, but obviously that’s not true. Our bodies have learned to naturally adapt to the long days and compensated with a marginally longer sleeping period.”

               “Interesting,” Oddy offers from beside you. “Tell me, are there other sentient species there on your planet?”

               “Just humans, mostly,” you tell him with a slight shrug of your shoulders. “Remember the massive moon-forming collision I mentioned earlier? It led to a massive extinction of the major indigenous terrestrial species, so basically it’s just us and many classes of arthropods. They’ve made efforts to slowly reintroduce larger species into Draboon’s jungles again, although the jungles are home to venomous mites that have so far killed off any of the species we’ve tried to introduce.”

               “Venomous mites?” Jess asks as she makes a face. “You have venomous mites on your planet?”

               “In the jungles,” you quickly assure her. “The people of Draboon are, of course, entitled to free immunity treatments provided by the Crown, otherwise I fear our population might not survive.”

               “It is a risk,” L’ulo offers as everyone at the table turns to look at him. “I remember one of my friends was attacked by a venomous mite swarm and we were able to get him treated at one of the medical clinics available on the planet. Draboon has one of the best medical facilities that I’ve ever seen.”

               “The health and longevity of our people are our main priority,” you tell him. “As is their education. Due to the plentiful reserves of lapis, we are able to ensure that everyone on our planet has enough. As such, we have very little in the way of crime, at least in our capital city of High Arceus, located on the edge of the Valley of the Ancients. That is what they named the scar from the moon-forming impact I previously mentioned. The central temple for our traditional religion is located at the center of the valley, which is also the site for a great deal of lapis mining, as the planet’s crust is much easier to breach in that area.”

               “So whose side is Draboon on?” Karé asks as she leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “I can only assume that since you’re here that you’re supporting the Resistance, but where do you stand in regards to the New Republic? Who’s protecting your planet?”

               “We protect ourselves,” you tell her firmly, with new authority seeping into your voice. “Draboon is allied with four other nearby systems, forming an unofficial bloc known as the Mandalorian Legacy, once part of the Council of Neutral Systems during the Clone Wars. Due to the dangerous wildlife and the mites found in our jungles, few have ever attempted to invade Draboon, and our allies would come to our aid if they ever did. Although my mother is Queen, she is advised by a Council who run the smaller affairs of Draboon’s governance, two members from our planet and two rotating members from the allied systems to ensure equality between our systems.”

               “You say you’ve never been attacked?” Iolo asks, as if he had some information you didn’t.

               “ _Rarely_ been attacked,” you correct him. In truth, you were only a child at the time of the last attack, and your mother had kept you shielded from those happenings, making sure that you were safe and well-guarded in one of the palace’s securest bunkers.

               “But considering your planet’s vast reserves of lapis, I could only imagine the trade routes outside your planet to be viciously prowled by pirates hoping to make an immense profit,” Iolo continues, but you just shake your head.

               “While it’s true that the people of Draboon do not know active combat, fortunately the men of Draboon’s Merchant Corps are ever on duty, and well aware of the dangers pirates pose to our valuable lapis trade. As I’m sure you’re well aware, the economy of Draboon is supported primarily by lapis exports, yes, but we also have skilled mineral-working commissions for Draboon’s artists’ guild forming another major component of our vibrant economy. We would have much to lose should our trade routes be compromised, and thus we and our neighboring systems consider their protection our top priority.”

               “Our people are very traditional,” you continue. “After the war with the Jedi and the decimation of the Clone Wars and the Empire, Draboon is one of the few remaining planets that still holds firm to Mandalorian culture, although our customs differ significantly from what is known and accepted among ethnologists as _Mandalorian_. Our people have a strong sense of tradition and don’t like deviating from the status quo. Since our roots ultimately go back to colonization rather than native evolution, our language reflects the mixture of original settlers from the Neutral Systems, so we primarily speak Basic mixed with some Old Mandalorian and bits of other languages, but we lack the strong warrior identity that modern Mandalorians are most known for. If anything, I would like to say that we have preserved their fiercely independent spirit in our culture, for although we have fostered a strong community spirit, we all know that we must all play our individual part in order to make Draboon a success.”

               “And I suppose that’s what you’re doing here,” someone offers, although their words don’t sound altogether unkind. “Coming out on your own? Learning to be a pilot? Fostering that independent spirit?”

               “I suppose you could put it that way,” you say as you offer a small smile, but in the back of your mind you can’t help but think that they were testing you, as if trying to discern the true reason why you had arrived. You didn’t doubt that they were probably suspicious of you and your motives, why a foreign diplomat from Draboon was here to oversee what they were doing, or learning how to be a pilot. You supposed they considered it more or less unnecessary, as they probably assumed that the future Queen of Draboon had no reason to fly herself anywhere. Perhaps they saw you as just a spoiled child, wanting to see and experience as much of the galaxy as you could without thought to the political ramifications that were at stake. If that was the case, they would be sorely mistaken, and yet you couldn’t help but be silently pleased with that assessment. It would only serve to your benefit that they underestimate you, should you be unfortunately put in a position where you had to prove them wrong. You hardly thought you had anything to fear from them, and your apparent friendship with Poe should dissuade anyone from considering that you had any nefarious or ulterior motives.

               Still, this was a time of war, and you could hardly blame them for wanting to be cautious. It was clear from the tone of the conversation that they had the utmost respect for Commander Dameron and regarded him as a true leader. You assumed this to be due mostly in part to his colloquial nature, by the way he seemed to regard the members of his team as members of his family instead of people that were under his charge, but you couldn’t help but wonder if there was a side to him that he was keeping hidden even around you. There was, of course, a side to you that you were holding back as well, such was the state that the galaxy was in at this time.

               You turned to Poe to break the awkward silence. “You’ve all learned a little about my home and people, but I’m afraid I know very little about why you all left the New Republic for the Resistance. You mentioned the _Yissira Zyde_. What was the significance of that ship?”

               Almost right away, Poe, Iolo and Karé glance at each other in an uncomfortable silence. Clearly, that was a question you shouldn’t have asked. Still, just as you were about to apologize for asking, L’ulo leans forward to respond. “I can handle the question, if you don’t mind.”

The rest of them nod as they seem to relax somewhat. L’ulo grabs a bottle from the center of the table and proceeds to pour a little into everyone’s glasses, filling one for you as well. “If you’re going to be a pilot, best to learn the traditions early, Your Highness.” You let the term of address slide for this seemingly somber moment as you raise your glass along with the others. “To Lieutenant Muran, a hero who went out defending all that is good and right in the galaxy.”

“Hear, hear,” Snap interjects, before they all take a sip. You follow suit, finding the drink to be much milder than you expected for fighter pilots.

               Turning to look at you, L’ulo begins his explanation. “Not so long ago, these three were pilots of the New Republic’s Rapier Squadron along with Lieutenant Muran, assigned to patrol the Mirrin Sector. Just as it does now, the New Republic Command did not take the First Order seriously and, under the influence of certain senators, withdrew the Fleet to the Core to prevent any provocation of the First Order. The Fleet remains there even now, despite all that’s happened, as the Senate continues to ignore the clear signs that war is inevitable.”

               “During Rapier’s patrol, they received a distress call from a freelance trader, the _Yissira Zyde_ , carrying a valuable cargo of high-capacity charging arrays. The original destination of the cargo is officially unknown, though it was likely destined for an illegal shipfitter’s operation. The First Order, however, had other ideas for it. Though those arrays are typically used in high-power industrial applications, they can quickly be adapted for use in heavy turbolaser weaponry, with some modifications. With the heavy restrictions on weaponry imposed by the Galactic Concordance and other Senate resolutions like the Military Disarmament Act, dual use hardware like _Zyde_ ’s cargo is critical to the First Order’s goal of resurrecting the Empire’s original military might.”

               “When Rapier dropped out of hyperspace over Suraz Five, they were greeted by the sight of two First Order commando attack shuttles and two flights of their brand-new TIE Fighters attacking the _Yissira Zyde_ , just the latest in a recent string of First Order violations of the Trans-Hydian Border between the New Republic and First Order territories. This was the first time these three had seen the First Order in action, though. Unlike the Empire’s stormtroopers and TIE pilots of old, these were highly trained; capable experts at what they did. Poe and Karé managed to destroy six of the eight TIEs in the initial engagement, though the shields on the fighters came as a surprise, a sign that the First Order was intent on improving upon the Empire’s failures. The other two fighters and one of the shuttles were short work for Iolo and Muran, though not before a team of commando stormtroopers had already boarded the _Yissira Zyde_ and killed the crew. Muran attempted to cut off the marauder's’ escape in a frontal attack, but the shuttle and the _Zyde_ jumped to hyperspace, destroying his fighter with the wake of their jump.”

Poe, Iolo and Karé each silently take a sip as they relived what was probably one of the worst moments of their lives, watching their friend get ripped to pieces right before their eyes.

               L’ulo turns directly to you before he asks his next question. “What do you know of the terms the Empire accepted when they signed the Galactic Concordance, and how many terms of the Concordance alone were violated, let alone its succeeding treaties?”

               A military history quiz. It seemed quizzes weren’t unique to Poe, but common among the Resistance pilots, at least where you were concerned. Your galactic history lessons served you well in this area. “When Grand Vizier Amedda signed the treaty, he agreed to the cessation of hostilities against the New Republic, both current and future. He agreed to the total capitulation of the Empire to the New Republic, and an end to the Galactic Civil War. He agreed to a ban on torture and the recruitment and deployment of stormtroopers. He also agreed to surrender Coruscant as the capital and to maintain Imperial forces within the treaty boundaries.” Those were the terms, which was easy enough to recite, but you wanted to take it one step further and impress them with all that you had learned from your studies, and what you had surmised from your conversation so far.

               “Since _stormtroopers_ attacked the _Yissira Zyde_ , they obviously had to have recruited new stormtroopers - the original forces around at the time of the signing are in no condition to fight or likely dead - so that’s one violation. Since the _Zyde_ was freelance, they technically didn’t attack the New Republic, but they attacked in New Republic territory, so that’s another. The interesting part is the brand-new TIE fighters. The attack shuttles, even I know that simple transport shuttles aren’t hard to repurpose for combat purposes - we do it on Draboon.  Besides the fact they obviously violated arms controls to acquire them, the TIE fighters are an interesting detail because if I’m not mistaken, they’re too small to carry even a basic hyperdrive core, so where was their carrier? They surely didn’t launch from a fighter base, not even the First Order would risk something so foolish in New Republic territory.”

               L’ulo nods approvingly as he continues the story. “You’re asking the same questions Poe did. Against the orders of his commanding officer, Poe chased the attack team to a First Order battlecruiser. Not a refurbished remnant of the Imperial Navy. A brand-new battlecruiser built for the First Order, outclassed only by the Empire’s former unwieldy dreadnoughts. Rumor has it that they took one of those with them to the Unknown Regions, the Emperor’s personal flagship _Eclipse_.”

               “So the First Order is also flouting the treaty ban on capital ship construction and deployment too.”

               “Yes. Upon Poe’s return, Major Deso refused to pass the action report up the chain of command, fearful of finally sparking active war between the New Republic and the First Order. He wrote the First Order off as a remnant born of a forgotten war who barely existed: an ill-organized, poorly equipped, badly funded group of Imperial fanatics who depended on propaganda and fear to give the illusion of strength.”

               You couldn’t help but scoff in disgust. That attitude was familiar. It reminded you of your mother’s idle dismissal when you tried to explain to her that you needed to learn to defend yourself, to learn skills that also better prepared you for individual adversity and not just _affairs of state_.

               “Exactly. So what was Poe to do when he was presented with General Organa’s offer?”

               “I remember it like it was yesterday,” Poe chimes in beside you. “ _‘Have you heard of the Resistance, Poe?’_ I knew there were officers and senior enlisted leaders resigning or even deserting the Republic Navy to fight the First Order, though Command mostly just swept it all under the rug and refused to address it, probably for fear of inspiring more of the same. Our fight against the First Order strike team? Also swept under the rug. As Rapier Leader, it was my job to write the condolence note to Lieutenant Muran’s family. What was I supposed to write? I couldn’t exactly write _killed in the line of duty by forces of the First Order_. I couldn’t even put him up for a heroism citation, since the First Order military doesn’t even exist according to Command. You don’t cite pilots for blasting rogue pirates. That’s just a normal day’s work.”

               “The General offered me two choices: as a Senator, she could sweep the whole incident under the rug and keep me in charge of Rapier under Deso, my hands tied by Command and the Republic’s blind, complacent politicians, or I could join the Resistance and help stop the First Order before it was too late.”

               “Sign me up,” Karé mutters under her breath as she slams down her empty cup. Iolo echoes the motion in quick agreement before Karé gets slowly to her feet. “I think I’m going to turn in, Commander. Stiletto has first patrol in the morning and it’s time for my mandatory six. Don’t stop the party on my account.”

               The table briefly exchanges waves with Karé as she departs, leaving an awkward pause between those remaining. “Where was I?” L’ulo asks. His eyes search the table before falling back on you. “Ah, yes. You know why we’re all here, but I’d like to know, deep down, what brought you here. Why do you really want to learn to fly? The Republic Navy will gladly give demonstration rides to nobility such as yourself, so why here? Why fly with the Resistance?”

               You thought about telling him the truth. The way he talked, it seemed almost as though he could see right through the facades everyone wore, so you tested the waters with a jesting answer. “Would you believe me if I told you I just really wanted to fly an X-Wing before I become Queen?”

               L’ulo takes a sip from his cup before answering, “No. Given the value of Draboon’s exports and the problem of pirates, you could easily purchase a squadron of patrol edition X-Wings under the self-defense provisions of Republic law. Once Queen, you could also learn to fly one as the Supreme Commander of Draboonian martial forces, your prerogative as Queen. So no, I would not believe you.”

               He definitely saw right through you. You looked around the table at the others, searching for their reactions to such a sober counter, but most of them seemed not to notice, caught in the small distractions which occupied the minds of the drunk and the tired. The only other one who seemed to be following along was Poe. At least, he was trying to. All the toasting of Muran was starting to take its toll on him. Hopefully Poe wouldn’t remember the truth you knew L’ulo would eventually get out of you. At this point, you had two options: tell L’ulo the truth, or walk away. The latter was not an option. While Poe was the commander of Black Squadron, you got the sense the others respected L’ulo for his wisdom, and thus you needed to gain his trust. You make a show of taking a sip from your own cup, though not actually drinking, before meeting L’ulo’s eyes again.

You would need to remain alert to pass this test.

               From his jacket, L’ulo pulls out a small pouch and sets it on the table. After untying the cord, he pulls away the cloth to reveal a pale translucent stone that you instantly recognized from your world.

               “A heartstone? The last batch was shaped more than thirty years ago. How did you get one?”

               “I got it when I visited the Temple of Light on your planet. Poe is not the first military representative to visit your world. During the Galactic Civil War, I joined an Alliance delegation that visited your world, seeking to cooperate with members of the Neutral Systems. The discussions went poorly, as you may have read in your history lessons, but I benefitted from my visit to the Temple. When I was there, I undertook the Trial of Forzin, I believe that is what it was called, no?”

               “Yes, although with the current peace the ceremony does not happen often these days. Very rarely do people from my world face crises where they need reassurance that they are following the right path.”

               “Have you undergone the Trial?”

               “No. The Trial is part of the coronation process, so my time has not yet come. I have to ask, why face the Trial on Draboon? A small number of large heartstones were distributed long ago after Jedi studies proved inconclusive, so there are worlds in the Core where one could undergo the Trial without facing Draboon’s natural dangers.”

               “I understand that now. The Father explained that to me at the time as well, but as a young man, I was convinced that the original meteorite at the heart of the Temple was somehow stronger. Plus, as you said, the worlds are in the Core, and thus under the control of the Empire at the time. The Alliance had faced several setbacks, and I needed to know that I was on the right path. The Father asked me three questions, and the stone glowed strongly the entire time. I was on the right path. The Father sensed something in me that day, and gifted this stone to me as a reminder, cut from the original.”

He pushes the stone toward you, and you reach for it cautiously. Next to you Poe seems to have nodded off, though frozen in a listening pose, chin in hand, elbow on the table. You close your hand around the stone and leave your hand there, not daring to check to see if it is glowing. You came here thinking you were doing the right thing, and you did not know how to handle being told by a stone that you were doing the wrong thing. Now, it couldn’t be helped. “Ask your question again.”

“D’Qar is a dangerous place. As the home of the Resistance, the First Order is searching for it, planning to attack whenever they find it. They will use any leverage necessary to destroy the Resistance and the Republic to reestablish the old order of the Empire. As a trade ally, you could always have petitioned to learn how to fly in an exchange with the Republic Navy, or even on your own terms when you become Queen. So why here? Why learn to fly with the Resistance?”

You could not count on the stone glowing when he asked to see it, so you had no choice but to tell him the truth. “The truth is that I have no interest in the stuffy life of the Queen, not the life that my mother has crafted it to be. I want to lead the people of Draboon, yes, but I am not content to sit idly by as the affairs of the galaxy pass me by. The Queen of Draboon is not a player in the events of galactic history. My vision of the crown could never come to fruition as things stand. Here, I can learn what I can so that someday I can lead our people to greater things, whether as Queen, or in some other role.”

L’ulo fixes you with his red-eyed gaze for several long seconds before gesturing for you to turn your hand over. As you turn your clenched hand over, you gasp as you see soft white light glowing faintly through the cracks between your fingers. L’ulo places a hand on yours.

“Queen or not, you have a fateful future ahead of you, and I look forward to flying with you.”

You consider Poe asleep next to you, and you have to ask.

“Have you ever done this test on Poe?”

L’ulo shakes his head. “On Draboon, the Father made an exception for me. Normally the Trial is only reserved for priests of the faith, monarchs, pilgrims or the destitute, not soldiers or the curious passerby. In a fight such as this, I cannot risk the possibility that Poe would fail the test and question everything he holds to be true. I believe he would pass, but as a rule I do not administer the Trial to anyone within the Resistance. The life of a soldier is plagued with enough doubts as is, without adding the cosmic judgment of the Trial.”

His gaze flits back and forth between you and Poe, and he adopts what seems to be a look of contentment as he stands up from the table, though it was difficult to read his Durosan features. “I’ve known Poe a very long time. Be gentle with him.”

Before you can ask him what he means, he’s circled the table and is shaking Poe and the others awake. “Still falling asleep on me when I drone on, eh? There are better places to get some shut-eye, everyone. I think it’s time we turned in for the night.”

You quickly bid your farewell to the others as you headed back down the corridor leading to your room. You had passed L’ulo’s trial and confirmed what you had always known to be true: you didn’t want to be Queen, not really. You didn’t want to be bogged down by commitment and responsibility when you could help serve some greater purpose, some cause more larger and more noble than the idle affairs of Draboon.

You realized right then that there was another truth that you hadn’t revealed. The truth was that you did truly want to aid the Resistance, to help them in their struggle against the First Order. You could serve them much better as Queen of Draboon, providing them with any resources that they might require, but was that truly in the best interests of your planet? Of your people?

The stone seemed to assure you that you were on the right path, and yet suddenly you felt more unsure of yourself than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wish we got to see more of Black Squadron in TFA but hopefully we'll get to see more of them in The Last Jedi! Next week, our Reader gets to get some more training time in and learns what it's like to lead her own squadron as her relationship with Poe starts to get a little warmer. When I said slow burn, I meant it. ;) Until then, cheers!!


	5. Chapter 5

            “They like you.”

            You’re sitting in your living room again, discarded datapad on the cushion that you’ve since traded in for a hot plate of food that Garrett had brought you for supper tonight. He is again sitting on the edge of the seat at the corner of the table, but at least this time he looks a bit more comfortable to be seated there.

            “Go on,” you encourage as you bite into your food. Knowing that you were liked was one thing, but you wanted to know _why_. Again, this was seemingly something that you had learned from your mother; if you learned how to captivate people’s loyalty, you knew how to retain it. Likewise, if you knew why Poe’s friends seemed to like you, it only made good sense to do as much as you could to help bolster that solid image of yourself.

            “They believe that you’re authentic,” Garrett continues, and you let out a small, delighted murmur through a mouthful of food. “They thought you were very knowledgeable about the planet, and you seemed to care a great deal for the people. They think that you will make an excellent Queen someday.”

            “Good, good,” you say as you nod your head forward, wiping the corner of your lip to try to wipe away the smudge of thick brown sauce that your dinner had been covered in. “But why do I sense that there is more you haven’t yet told me?”

            “But they still don’t understand what you’re doing here,” Garrett confesses. “Or why you seemed to insist on taking up pilot training, specifically with Commander Dameron and no one else. We both know that your mother insisted that you receive only the finest tutelage, but the rest seem to have considered that you have, how should I put this? _Other_ motives at play, perhaps.”

            You make a sound as if you’re choking even though you haven’t even taken another bite. Still, the spit seems dry in your throat and you can’t help the blush that seems to have taken over your cheeks. “Yes, well.” You shake your head from side to side in an attempt to clear it as you recover yourself. “You know what they say about military installations and fraudulent gossip. I suppose my arrival here has attracted a fair bit of attention, hasn’t it?” You roll your shoulders as if it doesn’t bother you in the least, but you can’t help but notice that Garrett is still watching you intently. “Would you like to hear me deny it?”

            “No, no, Your Highness,” Garrett says quickly as he suddenly dips his eyes down in reverence. “No, not at all. Your reasons for being here are your own, and you have no need to justify them to me or to anyone else on this base.

            “So you’re insinuating you do believe there is some truth to the rumors?” you ask as you arch an eyebrow, and Garrett stammers for a moment, as if desperate to come up with a safe answer. “You can relax, Garrett. Aesthetically speaking, Commander Dameron is quite attractive, and rumored to be extremely popular among both the men and the ladies, but he provides no temptation for me. In a few years, my mother will find me a man she deems suitable for me to marry, and I’ll have to go through with it despite my protestations. I’ve made peace with that fact already, and I can only hope that he’ll at least be nice to me.”

            Garrett looks uncertain for a moment, as if he wants to provide you at least some small bit of comfort but doesn’t know quite what to say. He starts to speak for a moment before holding back, as if changing his mind entirely. “Wouldn’t it be possible that your mother would potentially let you choose your own suitor?” he offers, and you just shrug your shoulders as you slump back into the couch a little ways. You never had the opportunity to really talk about this with anyone before, and you considered conversing with Garrett more or less safe. He was young yet, but you didn’t think he would betray your confidence and tell anyone what you had discussed in his assumable daily reports.

            “Potentially,” you echo, but you sound disheartened by the whole nature of the conversation. “I expect the marriage to probably be a political alliance with one of our neighboring planets, but due to the volatile nature of the galaxy right now, it really is hard to say. If the threat of the First Order increases…” You let your voice trail off as you stare at a spot in the distance, trying to push away the unpleasant thoughts of what future that could possibly entail. You shake your head as you sit up straighter. “But, again, that is many years away and currently the most pressing matter of concern for me is to pass the surprise quizzes Commander Dameron likes to spring on me at the start of every morning.”

            Garrett lets out a small laugh and seems to smile in spite of himself as you readjust your position on the couch, hoisting your datapad back into your lap. “Is that all, Garrett?”

            “Yes, Your Highness,” Garrett says as he gets to his feet. “Enjoy the rest of your night.” As he gets to his feet, you can’t help but let some gnawing bit of emotion pass through you, a reflection of what had been said earlier, and you decide to just go ahead and ask.

            “Hold a minute, Garrett,” you say quickly, and Garrett’s feet stop moving in mid-motion.

            “Yes, Your Highness?”

            “If I had a request for you to fulfill that would be ultimately deemed, well, _indecent_ by the Crown, would you fulfill that request and keep all manner of our dealings strictly confidential, as in, just between us?” You keep your face perfectly straight, but Garrett just stares back at you so steadily that for a moment you almost wonder if your words had gone right through him.

            “I think,” he begins at length, closing and opening his eyes as if to make sure the situation was still very real. “I think it would depend on the nature of the request, Your Highness.”

            “I want you to teach me to fight,” you say immediately, although you can’t help but be disappointed by Garrett’s bewildered look. “Well, not to fight, exactly. Basic self-defense. In the event that I am ever attacked, I would like the opportunity to be able to protect myself, should no one be there to come to my aid. I know that is what you are there for, Garrett, but the nature of the galaxy is fragile right now and if I happen to be caught unawares, I want to at least be able to stand a fighting chance.”

            Garrett pauses for a moment, and to his credit, he seems to be deliberating your request with a great deal of consideration. “First, I must ask, is there anything on base that has made you feel unsafe? Anything or anyone here who you feel might have reason to harm you?”

            “No,” you say immediately, your eyes widening in earnest. “No, nothing like that. I feel safe here and nothing has given me cause for alarm. We are speaking purely in hypotheticals, I assure you. In the event that I should ever feel unsafe, I would report it to you at once.”

            Garrett nods his head again, as if this was just the sort of answer he expected. “I’m not sure I should,” he begins at length. “I can see where you’re coming from and why you would want to have some control in the situation, but I’m not sure it’s the right way to go. If there is ever an abduction attempt and you try to fight back, well, I’m concerned that one of your captors might become uneasy and potentially harm you, or worse.”

            In all fairness, that was not something that you had ever considered, and you pause for a moment as you reflect on his point. It was possible you were learning to put yourself in more danger by attempting to escape, but even still, you couldn’t help but think that it was almost foolish to be reflecting on the nature of this conversation. He was simply considering a hypothetical, just as you were, but that didn’t mean that you had no reason to act upon it.

            “I appreciate the amount of deliberation you are putting into this matter,” you say warmly. “Clearly my safety and well-being are of paramount important to you, and while I commend you on your duty, I must insist on this. Even if such a scenario that you described ever arises, and I hope it won’t, there is no way to know if my would-be captors would want me alive, in which case whatever experience I can manage in even simple combat techniques could end up potentially saving my life.”

            Garrett gnaws on his bottom lip for a moment, as if realizing the validity of the point you were trying to make. “All right,” he says at length. “All right, Your Highness, I will do as you ask, although I want you to know up front that I am not a very good fighter. I don’t know what I can teach you, and I certainly don’t want to end up accidently hurting you.”

            “I’m not concerned,” you reply with a firm shake of your head. “I don’t intend to serve in a militia, Garrett, I simply want basic instructions on form and the like so that I may defend myself if I ever find myself in a position where I am unfortunately… _vulnerable_.”

            “I understand,” Garrett says with a firm nod of his head. “Although I don’t know if this is the best space to do it. Do I have your permission to reach out to someone in the Resistance and request that we may use one of their training areas for such practice?”

            You hesitate for a moment as you bite your lip and dip your eyes, deep in thought. You didn’t want anyone else finding out about this and potentially reporting it back to your mother, but it was true that this apartment, while well-furnished, was tight on the space that you would assumedly require in order to make the most out of your lessons. “Yes,” you say as you nod your head. “I trust you to use your good judgement though. I don’t want my mother to find out about this, do you understand?”

            “I have a vested interest in that as well, Your Highness,” Garrett replies, and you can’t help but stifle a small laugh of amusement. You hadn’t expected this coming from him, and you nod your head forward a few times in silent appreciation.

            “Okay, I trust you,” you say at length. “Go and find out what you can and speak to who you think it would be good to speak to; I will trust your judgement on this matter. Let me know when you have more information.”

            “I will,” Garrett says. “Have a good night, Your Highness.” He stands there for a moment, as if he has more to say, and you glance up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say his piece. “I’m sorry, I just, why me? I’m sure one of the other guards on the team would be better suited to handle this request.”

            “True,” you admit, tilting your head to the side. “They are more experienced, but you are already acting in my confidence. You are young yet, and you aren’t as rehearsed in the traditions that my mother has put forth yet. You have sworn loyalty to her, but she will retire during your service, and then you will serve me. I know those out there are loyal to Draboon, but they are also loyal to my mother and whatever requests she puts forth. They are not loyal to me, and that is what I seek. In time, I _will_ be Queen, and as such I require people that I can trust and count on, people who will serve me well, providing me counsel when I seek it. I am hoping one of those people can be you, Garrett.”

            “Your Highness.” Garrett drops into a swooping bow as he bends at his waist. “I, it would be an honor to serve you when the time comes. Not that it hasn’t, I mean, I will do what it takes to serve you now, but…” His voice trails off as he stands up straight again, as if searching for the right words to say. “I will serve you in whatever way you require, both now and when you take your sworn oath to become the Lady of Draboon. Of that, you have my word.”

            “I’m glad,” you say as you push a small smile to your lips. “Now, it’s getting late and I should get some last minute studying done. I’m pleased I’ll be able to count on you, and it seems I was right to trust you. Have a good night, Garrett.”

            “Have a good night, Your Highness,” Garrett says as he turns and leaves quickly, shutting the door behind him.

            You can’t help but hear the happiness reflected in his tone. In truth, you didn’t know anything about Garrett aside from the fact that he was one of the members of your security detailing, but he was quickly becoming something of a friend to you, and you weren’t quite sure how you should feel about that. You had so often been told that you did not have _friends_ , you had alliances, and a part of you was concerned that your quickly developing relationship with Garrett might inhibit him from doing his job. Then again, you truly considered yourself in no danger here, and thus you didn’t think you needed to concern yourself with it any more than you already had.

            Any further thoughts would only serve to distract you from your studies, and that was something that you wouldn’t allow yourself to entertain at the present time. No, you had to make sure you were well prepared for your lessons with Commander Dameron in the morning, and so you resolved to put it out of your mind as much as you possibly could until you heard back from Garrett about your training.

* * *

 

            “Three more waypoints, then your real practical begins. Three clicks to twenty-eight.”

            Today, Poe had you flying to various waypoints around the jungles of D’Qar after an extended lesson. It seemed the waypoints were a test of your ability to handle the shuttle thus far, each earning you a certain amount of “bonus points” towards completing the practical exam. Most were easy enough to follow on the map, but some were rather difficult to achieve, such as under the arch of a huge fallen tree or in a cave looping deep underground. One was at the bottom of a giant sinkhole webbed with vines.

            You skipped that one and the extra five points it provided.

            All of them were technically possible, but not all were worth potentially damaging the shuttle. Whatever this practical was, Poe had warned you that you would need as much of the shuttle working as possible in order to pass.

            Right now you were focused on how to fly the shuttle through an inverted-triangle hole in a mountain spur. There would be two ways to do this. One, you could try the fancy flip Poe had shown you last flight, and get you both killed, or you could just try to fly upside-down for the first time in the shuttle. As you rounded the face of the mountain, you saw the hole up ahead and realized that the map had understated the size of the hole, which was probably the _exact_ size of the shuttle.

            And you had to pass through it.

            Upside-down.

_First time for everything._

            Thanks to yesterday’s homework, at least you knew the shuttle could take it.

            You look over at Poe, who just raises an inquiring eyebrow in response, almost egging you on.

            “Check your straps, Black Leader. We’re going inverted in five, four, three, two, one…”

            You hold the toggle for repulsor power in _Override_ and roll the shuttle around, _hard_. The metal frame creaks slightly in protest but you hold steady. You level out upside-down and watch as the little yellow dot of the waypoint turns green on your map as you sail through the hole, accompanied by the sound of Poe whooping beside you. Once you were sure you were clear, you rolled back around and checked for the next yellow waypoint.

            “Good?”

            “ _That_ was flying. So far, so good. Onto the next one.”

            The next one seemed too easy, right above the Resistance Base several minutes away.

            “Is this right?”

            “Of course it’s right. Did you really think I wouldn’t quiz you on the rest of your reading? It’s a nice, calm straight shot so you’re not distracted from my questions.”

            _Ugh._

            “Remember Muntjarn? Assuming you had a full fuel load and a _properly_ working reactor, could you even escape the surface?”

            You try to do the math in your head and lose track of the fuel conversions. Pulling out a datapad, you work through the gravity and flight calculations as Poe watches from over your shoulder. Your final answer revealed that you would run out of fuel _and_ emergency power a few minutes after finally lifting off the planet’s surface. Given that time, you wouldn’t even make it a few kilometers up, let alone make orbit. You quickly scribble the word _NOPE_ and circle it twice before handing the datapad back to Poe.

            He looks over your work as he nods his head in approval.

            “Well, that takes care of all my questions except one: What are the unique challenges of flying this shuttle on Draboon?”

            Draboon. There it was again. You were going to focus on the technical aspects of flight on Draboon and ignore his obvious attempts to bring up last night’s discussion. Think. What did you know about Draboon that could interfere with flight?

            Mining.

            Shields.

_Good. Start there._

            “For one, the shield controls would have to be hardened before going anywhere near the lapis mining. The high amount of mineral dust in the air would overload the shields like an ion shot. That, or just divert all spare power to the shields and hope they hold. Better to harden the circuitry first though.” You hesitate for a moment as you see the way that Poe is looking at you. “What?”

            Poe had a bit of a spark in his eye, and you weren’t quite sure why. It vanishes almost as quickly as it had come as he lines up a following question.

            “Don’t worry about it. Keep going, just keep in mind I wanted to come back to load-balancing before the next waypoint. What about the mite swarms?”

            “Oh. Those. The mites aren’t a major concern, though the ground crew would have to scrub the shuttle from time to time, maybe refinish the paint after a few months since the shields don’t stop them at low speeds. Come to think of it, _that’s_ why the flight mechanics have dedicated medical techs assigned to every crew. The mites aren’t just venomous when they bite you; their blood is also poisonous.”

            “I had a similar problem when I came to visit. Your med techs put me straight into decon before I could visit your mother. Moving on, what about the long nights on Draboon? The planet’s outer atmosphere gets _really_ cold. How do you keep from freezing in the shuttle?”

            That had you stumped. Still, you gave it a shot, pointing out the obvious. “I guess you could just fly in the warmth of the jungle until you got close to where you needed to go. Other than that, unless there’s heaters in the shuttle I don’t know about, then just avoid flying at night.”

            Poe raises an eyebrow. “So, if the shuttle can’t survive the cold of a Draboonian night, how does it manage in space?

            Right. “Oh, that. The shuttle has a reflective insulating system, but in all honestly, I did not fully understand the reading.”

            “No problem. I’ll have BB-8 show you the panels during the regular maintenance on the shuttle. We’re coming up on the base soon though, so back to my last question - what happens when your main power system fails? Space is a cold, vicious frontier, so what do you prioritize to survive?”

            “Obviously engine control, navigation, shields, and life support.”

            “What if you’re being chased by an enemy fighter?”

            Why this sudden line of questioning? Did this have something to do with the upcoming test? “Um. I would divert more power to the rear shields.”

            “And what would you sacrifice in exchange? Life support? Forward shields? Power storage?”

            Suddenly you were extremely glad that you had concentrated on the section on wilderness survival for pilots. “I would sacrifice life support.”

            Poe’s body language shows he’s slightly impressed. “Most beginners default to lowering the forward shields. Why life support?”

            “It’s quite simple, really. Life support can use up to thirty percent of emergency power capacity, but if I’m running from an enemy fighter, I don’t much care whether I can breathe in the lower cargo hold; I’ll be in the cockpit trying to shake the fighter. If I need them, there’s three weeks’ worth of air scrubbers under both seats, as well as a month of ration cubes and emergency water filtration packs. Sure, it will be inconvenient to restart the life support systems after securing them, but at least I’ll live to fix them.”

            Poe was suddenly looking at you with something you could only describe as admiration. At the very least, you were pleased that you were finally getting a chance to prove to everyone that you weren’t _just_ some princess. Impressing Poe was just icing on the cake.

            “That’s exactly what I would do. L’ulo didn’t cheat and give you the answers while I was sleeping, did he? He did help write this practical after all.”

            You vigorously shake your head no. He was doing it again, though, bringing up last night’s conversation. “He just talked about when he visited Draboon when he was younger.” There was that eyebrow. “And no, I’m not recounting that story. It’s for him to tell you. Besides, we’re coming up on the waypoint in three, two, one.”

            As the waypoint turned green on the map, a voice cut in on the comm. “Control to Lapis Two. Come in.”

            This was strange. “Lapis Two here. Go ahead, Control.”

            “Lapis Two, effective immediately you are redesignated as Iris Leader. Your mobile guard detail is inbound for patrol and proficiency during your practical exam. You have command of Iris Squadron. For security reasons, you are ranked as Commander over communication circuits. Once the practical is initiated, Iris Two will temporarily assume tactical command. Control out.”

            Hm. Clever way to avoid making it something obvious like _Crown Leader_. Just use the royal flower. That also took you out of your mother’s shadow. You liked that. You liked that _a lot._

            You weren’t expecting to call the roll, but apparently it was part of the test. It was time to find out who was up here with you. You peek over at Poe before keying the comms. “Iris Squadron, report.”

            “Iris Two standing by.” _The sergeant._

            “Iris Three standing by.” _Toka_.

            “Iris Four standing by.” _Geoff_.

            “Iris Five standing by.” _Garrett._

            Now that you knew who was up here, _why_ were they up here?

            “Iris Two, what are you doing up here? Major Hyse took all the Z-95’s home with the Queen.”

            “Commander,” you could hear the strain of the unusual title in the sergeant’s voice. “Patrol is part of our job description. As Commander Dameron will tell you, I’m sure, all pilots have to fly often to stay proficient. We may not be specialized starfighter pilots, but we protect you in every way we can, and that includes ship-to-ship combat. We’re maintaining proficiency on some A-Wings that were part of the deal. Coming up port and starboard now, Commander. Where to?”

            You looked left and right, and there they were, four A-Wings, painted with a blue iris design inspired by Draboon’s royal symbol. You looked down to check for the next waypoint, only to find you were about to fly through it. This one remained yellow, however. You tapped it to expand the data, and felt your breath catch in your throat once you realized what you were looking at. Under the waypoint was written _Altitude: 1703km._

            You look up at Poe disbelievingly. “That can’t be right. _That’s in space_.” Poe just smiles and nods in response. The pieces were coming together now. The practical had something to do with something critical “breaking” on the shuttle while you were in space.

            Well.

            First time for everything.

            “Iris Squadron on me. The last waypoint is in orbit. Rig all systems for full-power orbital climb. Maximize forward shields and take weapons to standby. On my mark.” You adjusted the waypoint map to show you your new squadron’s ships as well as yours. “Three, two, one, climb.”

            You brought the shuttle up to full speed, nose-up, watching as the blue of the sky around you steadily faded and slowly darkened to the black of space. The waypoint steadily got closer, and you watched as the distance counted down to zero. The dot turned green and winked off of the display. Now what? You turned to Poe and saw him calculating something on a datapad before bringing up a small wrist comlink.

            “Control, Iris Squadron. Black Leader here. Initiating package Bravo-Two-Six.”

            “Control acknowledges. Loading Bravo-Two-Six.”

            “Iris Two. Roger, Black Leader. Initiating patrol. I am assuming tactical command.”

            Just as you started to ask Poe what Bravo-Two-Six meant, alarms across your console started to go off and you immediately brought up the status report, silencing alarms as the red words crept up the screen. _Loss of Main Power. Reserve Power Storage: 75%. Starboard repulsor arrays malfunctioning, remaining capacity: 60%. Weapons: Disabled. Rear deflectors: 10%. Hyperdrive: Destroyed. Starboard control power: malfunction detected. Explosive cargo: Armed. Time to detonation: 10:32._ You gape slightly as you watch the time count down and turn to look at Poe for explanation.

            “That was some hit we took, Commander. You can’t abandon the mission, though. You have to deliver the bomb to _this_ location. There is no turning back.” Poe inserts a small chip into the console, and a new waypoint pops up between two asteroids a few hundred kilometers away. If Poe was determined to make this seem like a real mission, you’d play along. You tried to remember as much as you could about standard emergency damage procedures and basic combat communications.

            “Iris Squadron, I’ve taken a significant hit to the starboard quarter and I’ve got ten minutes before my cargo blows. Watch for bogeys. Several systems at critical status, weapons are dead. Target is ahead three hundred clicks on heading seven-three. I have no rear deflectors to speak of, so I’ll need cover.”

            “Roger, Iris Leader. Looks like you’ve sprung a fuel leak on your starboard engine too, so I’d make it quick if we’re going to get out of here. It looks pretty big.”

            _Oh great. Here goes nothing._ You powered up the engines, only to find that the shuttle began to buck and careen wildly into a spin as a result. “What?”

            “Forty-two points. That qualified you for the _hardest_ scenario. You’re going to be a real pilot after this, Commander, provided you live to tell the tale.”

            _Ha._ So dramatic, though you could play along just as much.

            You wrestled with the controls until you figured out how to make the shuttle fly more or less straight. You were limited to half-speed with the malfunctioning starboard engine, though, so it only gave you a few minutes to spare, less if there were other _problems_ lurking. Flying towards the two huge asteroids, this seemed too easy. Flying straight couldn’t be your only issue. Weapons or not, your targeting systems still worked, so you brought them up and found an option labeled _Scan_. At first glance, it seemed clear.

            As the red vertical line of the scan traveled across the windows of the cockpit, another alarm started to go off as red dots appeared across the cockpit windows. At the end of the scan, you could count at least thirty red dots.

            And they were moving.

            “Iris Squadron, I’ve got bogeys. Lots of them. Can you confirm?”

            Garrett answered first. “Negative, Iris Leader. I’m not reading any- wait. That can’t be.”

            On your cockpit windows, the groups of dots were now a cloud of them.

            “Iris Two here. I’ve got nothing. What are you reading, Five?”

            “Bogeys. Hundreds of them. My astromech seems to think they’re buzz droids. I thought they junked all those after the Clone Wars.”

            “Three here. They junked B-1’s after the Clone Wars too, but that Snap guy keeps one as a pet, so I wouldn’t be too quick to assume anything, Five.”

            “Um, everyone? They’re swarming.”

            You heard the sergeant curse and begin to bark orders.

            “Commander, we can’t afford for you to lose the cargo. It looks like the target is some kind of control computer for the droids but it’s shielded against our weapons, so I need you to stay on your course or we’ll run out of time to deliver the cargo. Whatever you do, don’t let them behind you.”

            “Roger, Two. Iris Leader maintaining course.”

            You had to come up with a plan, and quickly. “Iris Three and Four, form up on me. Let’s see what these RZ’s can _really_ do. Five, let’s thin out the swarm. Arm four concussion missiles for salvo on my mark. Release in two, one, _now_.”

            Garrett pulls his fighter out ahead of you and you watch as four missile trails leave one after the other, streaking toward the massive cloud. Four brilliant flashes go off, and the red cloud has faded to discrete groups of dots around the rim of the explosions.

            “Iris, weapons free. Fire at will.”

            In response, you see four groups of red lasers streaking into the distance, met with small flashes as the droids exploded. It doesn’t seem like enough, though, as a new group of dots appears to pour out of one of the asteroids. These dots moved _much_ faster than the last ones. The sergeant swore again.

            “Five, cover the commander! Three and Four, break formation. Three, four-missile salvo with me, target the swarm. Four, two missiles. Target the source, let’s cut off their reinforcements. Break!”

            As much as you wanted to watch this dance, an alarm goes off and one of the dots in the window flashes bright red. You turn to Poe. “Wait. What does that mean?”

            He silently writes something on his datapad before answering. “That’s the targeting alert. Ready for combat, Commander?” Something twitches inside of you as you hear him refer to you that way, but you can’t think about that right now. You need to focus on flying. Garrett was going to lead your guard someday, so no better time to start working with him in combat, though you had no idea where to begin. You stop, take a deep breath, and look over the panels as an idea comes to mind.

            “Iris Five, Iris Leader here. It looks like I have...incoming. My shuttle’s maneuvering is compromised and I _still_ have no rear shields to speak of, so if this thing gets past me, take it out before it gets me.”

            “Got it, Commander. I have the bogey locked in. _Forzin’s_...what…? It looks like an old rusty imperial scout droid, but it’s... _swollen_ and it’s definitely rigged to blow. I’m going to take it out.”

            The droid was dead ahead. You only had a minute and a half left until the cargo blew up, and if he blew it up now, you’d have to waste precious time wrestling the crippled shuttle around the debris cloud to save your shields. If you hurried, you might actually be able to beat the droid. “Negative, Five. Hold your fire until I’m past it. We’ll fail the mission otherwise. I’m powering up.”

            “Roger, Commander. Five holding.”

            You push your engines as far as they will go without overloading the system, but it still isn’t fast enough. You need more power, or you are going to fail the scenario. You turn to Poe and look him in the eye with fierce determination. You don’t have time to catch his expression.

            “Commander, don your emergency support. I’m securing the life support systems. We won’t have time otherwise.”

            Poe just smiles, nods and pulls a rebreather from his lap. _He knew_. Of course he knew you were going to do it. You didn’t have time to ponder it any further though, and snatch your own rebreather from the open box on the floor. Once it’s on, you grab the main power switch for life support and look over at Poe to confirm he’s wearing his mask. He just gives you a thumbs-up in reply as you throw the switch. The red-lit load indicators on your screen suddenly turn yellow, indicating power available, and you push the engines as far as they will go. It didn’t matter that the power system heat alarm was going off. You had forty seconds left to deliver the _cargo_ and the system would definitely last longer than that.

            Just as you got up to speed, Garrett’s voice cut back in on the comm channel, “Commander, bogey clear. I’m taking the shot.” The targeting alarm cleared, but before you could feel relieved, the shuttle lurched into a spin.

            _Oh no. No._ You frantically search the panels to see what was wrong: your leaking engine had finally failed and the high power of the other one was steadily accelerating your spin. If this kept up, the spin would be unrecoverable. You wince as you reach for the engines’ emergency cutoff before an idea hits you. You pull it, and hear the sound of the engine wind down.

            _Okay, think. You’re out of control. If you don’t do something, the whole shuttle will either explode, or crash into the base_ and then _explode._

_Wait._

_What’s that?_

            At your feet was a small red pull tab that you had never noticed before, labeled _Emergency Bay Jettison._ So if the cargo was moving with the ship, and the ship was on course to hit the _top_ of the base, why not shift the cargo outside the ship and try to recover the ship?

            Thirty seconds.

_Here goes nothing._

            You pull the red tab, and suddenly notice the rotation of the ship has slowed. _Weird._ It was just slow enough that you could use the repulsors to slow your spin and arrest your collision course with the base.

            Time to let everyone know you were okay. Exam or not, the guards would _definitely_ worry watching your shuttle spin out of control, and you didn’t want them reporting anything unsavory to your mother.

            “Iris Leader here. I’ve lost my starboard engine but the ship is steady and the cargo is away. Ten seconds to detonation.”

            Through the cockpit windows, you can see a cluster of rapidly-spinning crates fly towards the duracrete box on the asteroid’s surface. You watch with satisfaction as they smash against the side of the structure, each one accompanied by a telltale puff of red powder. As the last one hits, the red dots disappear from your screen, and the clouds of droids seem to stop moving.

 _Of course it’s red paint. They wouldn’t put a_ real _bomb on board for an exam. Although… wait._

            “Five, did that scout mark me when you blew it up? Look for red paint dust.”

            You saw the whole squad turn back toward you to inspect the shuttle, and you waited tensely on the edge of your seat for their report. Finally, Garrett’s voice comes in again. “Negative, Commander. No paint.”

            You breathed a sigh of relief. You had no rear shields when the scout blew, so red paint would have meant that you had blown up and failed. You sink back in your chair and look over at Poe, who’s clearly proud of you. Now that you had time to read his expression, it’s one of admiration and _something else_. Something in his eyes. Something soft but lonely. Just as you’re about to mentally chide yourself for entertaining _this_ fantasy, Poe breaks off first, picking up the comlink.

            “Control, Black Leader. Secure the scenario. Iris Leader is approved for solo practice flights effective immediately.”

            “Roger, Black Leader. Scenario data archived for Corps training. Congratulations, Iris Leader. All pilots, endex, endex. Return to base. Iris Leader, maintain life support as-is. Our ground crew will take care of it. Cleanup team, report to grid Three-Seven-Tango. Repeat: endex, endex. All pilots, return to base.”

            You go to your own comm. “Roger, Control. Iris Squadron, return to base. Iris Leader out.” As your guards acknowledge and report in, you just stare out the windows, taking in the expanse of space before you have to head back. As Garrett reports in and heads for the Resistance base, you sigh and nose the shuttle around, surprised by its sudden maneuverability. Poe seems to notice your surprise as he cuts in.

            “Strange how quickly you can get used to unfavorable circumstances. Once the situation improves, sometimes it isn’t a relief, but a new stress of its own.”

            You weren’t sure how to respond to that, so you just remained silent in response. He could either be talking about the shuttle limitations, or he could be talking about your prescribed future on Draboon. He seems to take the hint and changes the subject as the sky outside brightens to a deep blue hue.

            “I have to help the Corps catch up on maintenance tomorrow, so you have the day off from my incessant quizzes. If you did want to fly, feel free to take the other shuttle for practice - you’re qualified to fly solo now. We still have a lot to cover before you can fly a starfighter though, so stick to the lesson plan if you do.”

            “Actually, that works perfectly. I was going to ask if I could take a break tomorrow as well to train in hand-to-hand combat with one of my guards.”

            “That’s a good plan. Be prepared for anything. If I have a free moment, I could come look in on your progress. Where are you planning on training?”

            “My guard has arranged to use one of the melee training rooms.”

            “Perfect. It’s easy to get things done around here when everyone likes you. Don’t forget to study for the next lesson though.”

            You scoff. “Please. Have I ever slacked on my studies? I-” Suddenly his full message hits you. “But wait, what did you mean, ‘everyone likes me’?”

            Poe suddenly looks guilty, as though he hadn’t meant to give that away. “Well, I can’t speak for the whole base, but everyone who’s met you all seem to like you. Black Squadron especially likes you, L’ulo particularly. What was it you said to him?”

            Again. He wasn’t going to get it out of you. “Like I said, you will have to ask him yourself. Now, when you say ‘everyone who’s talked about me,’ what do you mean? Do you talk about me?”

            Poe seems completely unfazed by this, and his response is immediate. “Of course! The squad asks about how you’re doing all the time. They want to see you succeed. Here, Bay Six today. Maintenance.

            You snap out of the conversation to realize you’re hovering outside the base doors, about to park the shuttle in its usual spot. You move the shuttle towards a skeletal-looking maintenance droid motioning to you and park it.

            “See? A real pilot now,” Poe says as you walk down the shuttle ramp and towards the base. As you get further from the shuttle Poe stops and turns to look at the shuttle, and you turn back and look with him. “Did you enjoy it?”

            _What?_ Had you ever given him the impression that you didn’t?

            “Of course! It was slightly frustrating when systems malfunctioned, but otherwise it was fun.”

            “Good. There’s just one problem though.” Poe points up toward the shuttle’s folded stabilizers. “Do you see that? Right at the tip of the starboard stabilizer. Is that red paint?”

            _Nope._ You make a point of covering your eyes and refuse to look. “Nope. Don’t even joke, Poe. There is no paint on that shuttle.”

            You hear the soft click of his boots across the strip before you feel his hand on your right shoulder, and you make every effort not to tense up or jump. “But hey, all joking aside, that was good work today. Congratulations, Commander. Keep flying like that, and I might even let you fly _Black One_. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

            Poe walks away, but you swore you could still feel his soft touch on your shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week, Reader has her training lessons with Garrett...which you just know Poe is going to drop in on. And then Reader may help BB-8 out with a few things and they share a bonding moment. Until then, cheers!!


	6. Chapter 6

            “I don’t think your mother would approve of this.”

            “No, I do believe that she would consider this most unladylike.”

            You both can’t help but giggle like children as you each take a step back from each other. You were standing in the middle of one of the Resistance’s training rooms, and while it was a considerable size, you were pleased to see that you were alone. Mirrors lined the length of the room, and you could see your cobalt blue ponytail jumping with exhilaration every time you made a move.

To be honest, you were slightly embarrassed by the way you seemed to lack any form of solid muscle; when Garrett told you to punch him as hard as you could against his palm, he didn’t even flinch or step back. Garrett was tall and he was thin, and you were guessing he had to have at least some solid muscle underneath his armor for him to be able to withstand your blows as much as he was; either that, or you were just incredibly, incredibly weak.

            Which, of course, was not something that you would ever admit to, and thus you kept trading blows back and forth and back and forth. Garrett made it clear that he wasn’t going to hurt you, and he kept to his word, making sure to pull his punches and just lightly tap you when he could have hit you. In honest truth, you were doing more damage to yourself by trying to hit him. He never attacked you, never engaged, forcing you to go on the full offensive, and so you punched and you kicked with all the force you could muster.

            Unfortunately, it was almost like hitting a wall, and even though you tried not to show it, it _hurt_ when he blocked one of your attacks. What made matters worse was that you were the one who was on the offensive, the one doing the attacking, and yet you came away injured every time. Even still, you knew that Garrett would immediately stop if he suspected that you were causing yourself any unnecessary injury, and so you kept silent.

            “I think I need to improve my form,” you say eventually as you stop for a moment and take stock of yourself. You had just tried to block one of Garrett’s gentle counters with your forearms, and you couldn’t deny the throbbing that was starting to take up residence in the side of your arm.

            “Yeah, okay,” Garrett says immediately, but you can tell that he’s nervous. He had been telling you for most of the morning that he was _not_ a good teacher, and while you tried to insist that he was just being modest, it soon became clear to you that while he had been trained in combat to protect you, he had no idea where to begin when it came to instructing someone else. Regardless, there really was no one else who could teach you, and so you just assured him that whatever little bit he was willing to show you was more than appreciated.

            “Do you know what a kata is?” Garrett asks suddenly, and you shake your head from side to side as Garrett disappears momentarily behind a paneled wall and returns with a black heavy bag on a strong supporting stand. It _looks_ heavy as he rolls it over to you, partially on its side, and you can’t help but stare it down like it was something that might come to life and attack you at any moment. “It’s a word for form, pattern, or model.” He sets the heavy bag upright, and it does an involuntary scooch in your direction as it rights itself, centering itself on its base. You can’t help but take a step away from it, regarding it cautiously.

            “Form, pattern, or model. Okay, that sounds simple enough.”

            “Um, basically it’s an attack, well, a series of attacks, that you do over and over,” Garrett explains. He readjusts one of the straps on his gloves, and you look down and pretend to do the same, making sure they were sitting tight and secure over your smaller hands. Garrett stands in front of the bag for a moment, dipping one leg back in more of a fighting stance, while he regards the bag as if he’s trying to figure out just what to do with it. When you’re about to ask, he suddenly does a double jab cross, throwing two punches with his right before throwing one with his left, lifting his heel and turning his hip as he made the final strike.

            “And you do that to put more power in the punch?” you ask, and Garrett almost seems not to have heard you as he blinks in your direction.

            “Yeah, uh, yeah,” he says as he sheepishly glances down at his back foot. “I mean, I think I do it on instinct, but…” He lets his voice trail off as he repeats the movement a few more times. “Yeah, you want to really use your core to twist and then turn on your back heel to give you more force behind your punch.”

            “Cool,” you tell him, and the corner of Garrett’s lips pull upwards into a small smile as he glances back at the bag. He repeats the double jab cross before he suddenly alternates with a hooked punch, first with his right and then with his left before he suddenly spins down, tilting his body upwards as he plants a roundhouse kick against the side of the bag that almost topples it over completely. The bag stumbles backwards slightly before it suddenly comes back up and regains its balance, crashing back down onto the ground with a deafening smack.

            _“Really_ cool.”

            Garrett just shakes his head as if this wasn’t really anything to be proud of, and quickly brings the stand around towards you. “Give it a try.”

            “Me?” you ask blankly as your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I, uh, I don’t think I can do that. I don’t think my foot will, uh, go up that high.”

            “Do you want to try?” Garrett asks, making sure he doesn’t push you into anything you’re not comfortable doing, and you hesitate for a moment before you nod your head. “Here, if it makes you feel any better, I can support you; I won’t let you fall.”

            “Thanks,” you say quickly, and Garrett turns around to stand behind you. He’s a bit too close and you’re trying to figure out how to get your footing right. Garrett had made the move look so swift and natural, and you found your own movements much more flawed and gawky by comparison.

            Eventually, though, you decide to just do what feels natural to you as you let your eyes slip shut. You pivot on your front foot and let your back foot come up and around, chambering it at your side before you try to plant a kick as high as you can go. It looks impressive for all of about a second until you realize you far overcompensated your weight on your back foot and you were now slipping backwards. Fortunately, Garrett is true to his word and grabs your shoulders quickly to keep you upright as you quickly put your foot down, taking a few stuttering steps to help maintain your balance.

            “Thanks,” you say quickly as you glance back towards the bag. “So I’m guessing that was pretty terrible form, wasn’t it?”

            “Not necessarily,” Garrett replies. “It was a good first try, but you don’t need to try to kick so high. You should always think about what you’re aiming for. In most cases, your assailants would probably be wearing some sort of mask…”

            “…why is why I was going for the neck,” you say pointedly as you draw a line across your own throat, and Garrett seems visibly taken aback by this as his eyes widen in surprise. “In all of the holos of stormtrooper armor that I’ve ever seen, it’s always seemed to me that their neck was the weakest point.”

            Garrett looks like he’s about to say something before he shakes his head, although his surprise is still evident on his face.

            “Come on, Garrett, what is that age old adage? Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it? I may never actually face active combat, but there are still some things that are important to know, wouldn’t you say?”

            Garrett just inclines his head forward as if he wasn’t sure how to respond to this, and you quickly shrug your shoulders and let it go. “Anyway,” you say as you turn back to the heavy bag. “How do you kick without falling over?”

            “Try not kicking so high,” Garrett recommends. “I’ll be right here to try to catch you if you fall, but don’t try to kick any higher than your waist. If it helps, you can also put one arm out for balance, just make sure to keep it parallel with the leg you’re kicking with.”

            “Right,” you say quickly as you square up for another kick. You pivot to the side, chamber the kick, and then as you extend your leg, you also punch your dominant arm straight out so that you could have reached out and touched your knee if you truly wanted to. You hover there for a moment, almost in disbelief of your own ability, before you quickly rechamber the kick and stand up straight again for yourself, bouncing yourself up on your toes just to make sure you didn’t actually slip and fall flat on your face. “How was that?”

            “Excellent,” Garrett says, sounding almost impressed as he looks you over. “You have remarkable balance.”

            “I wonder if it’s an inherited trait,” you wonder idly as you glance back at the heavy bag, but you don’t dwell on that thought for more than a second as you pull your foot up and around to kick the bag. It doesn’t actually move any more than an inch, but you couldn’t help but be pleased by the satisfying sound your foot made when it connected with the heavy fabric. “Ow.”

            “You okay?” Garrett asks quickly, and you just shrug your shoulders as you keep yourself situated firmly in a fighting stance.

            “Yeah,” you reply quickly. “I just, I don’t know. I didn’t like the sound it made, is all.” You stare down the bag as if it suddenly has adopted an identity of its own before you throw your foot out and kick the bag again, a bit harder this time.

            “I think that was better,” Garrett advises, and you nod your head forward a few times.

            “Show me what you did,” you say as you take a few small steps away from the bag. “That punching and kicking combo you did; that’s what you called a kata, right?”

            “Uh, yeah,” Garrett replies as he steps forward in front of the bag. He throws one leg back and hesitates for a moment, as if trying to remember what exactly he _had_ done before he seems to decide to move on instinct as he had before. He does two jabs with his right arm before turning his body slightly as he throws with his left. He throws a right hook, then a left hook, and then tilts his body over to the side so that he can kick the bag with the side of his foot.

            He does this a few more times as you take note of his form, trying to figure out how to move your body exactly the way he did, before he finally takes a step back from the bag as he turns to face you. “After a while you just sort of let instinct take over. You, uh, you want to give it a try?”

            “Yeah,” you say with a stiff nod as you step forward towards the bag. In truth, you were a bit nervous, but this was just practice, and the risk of hurting yourself by hitting the bag too hard was minimal. If anything, you had absolutely nothing to be afraid of by punching a target that wouldn’t hit you back, and so you tried to focus and imagine that there was someone actually standing in front of you with the intent to harm you, a masked specter that had just revealed himself from the shadows.

            Almost on instinct, your right fist flies forward and you quickly throw out another punch before you spin on your left heel, a bit too fast for your liking, in an attempt to keep up with Garrett’s speed. You can feel the impact from your punch spread through your left fist, but it’s not exactly painful, and after a brief stammer you continue with the movements, throwing a right hook, and then a left hook, before you lean back and kick the bag, not as hard as Garrett did, trying to make sure you got your form right before you really exerted yourself on pure force.

            “You’re doing well,” Garrett says as he notices your form. “A little wobbly, but you’re getting the hang of it. Just go slow and think about each move before you’re about to do it. No one’s timing you here.”

            “Right.” You dip your head forward in a solemn nod before you take up the kata again, making sure to keep your movements slow and controlled. You keep going, making one deliberate movement after another before you finally start to pick up enough confidence to increase your speed. As you continue to work, you can feel beads of sweat forming on your hairline, but it only pushes you harder and increases your drive to keep going, to exert yourself as much as you can. For perhaps the first time in your life, you felt powerful, and not just in terms of your rank. You felt as though you had active control over your life, over your choices, and that was a comfort that couldn’t be underestimated.

            You were just about convinced that you had the skills to tackle any challenge that came your way when Commander Dameron walked in.

            Fortunately, you hadn’t tried to kick anything, otherwise you felt as though you really might have lost your balance. You _were_ sweating though, and you weren’t sure how appropriate or inappropriate it was for him to see you like this, red-faced and breathless from exertion. Nevertheless, he had probably seen others, trained others, and you decided this was only going to be as awkward as you wanted to make it.

            “Hey,” you say brightly as you look up to face him, backing slowly away from the bag. Poe looked considerably more composed than you did, albeit his outfit was a lot dirtier. He was wearing a tan jumpsuit that looked to be stained with spots of dried mechanical fluid, and his hair was a bit unkempt, as if he had been working outside. “What have you been doing all morning?”

            “Working on my X-Wing,” Poe replies simply as he starts walking towards you. “But from the looks of things, I don’t think I’ve been having anywhere near as much fun as you’ve been having.”

            “Oh, well,” you say with a casual shrug of your shoulders as you gesture idly towards the bag with one hand. “Fun’s what you make of it, I guess, but this isn’t bad. I think I’m slowly learning, if that makes any sense.”

            “Yeah?” Poe raises one eyebrow as he gnaws on his lower lip, his eyes quickly darting from you to the heavy bag and then back again. “Mind showing me what you’ve been up to?”

            Your cheeks flush scarlet, but considering how red your face probably was, you were hoping that he wouldn’t notice. “Uh, sure, okay, sure,” you reply as you turn to face the bag. The atmosphere in the room suddenly seems a lot tenser, and your muscles feel like taut guitar strings that were being tightened far past their usual allowance, and the strain was becoming heavier and heavier, the seconds wearing down before their fragile cords snapped under the strain once and for all. Regardless, you take in a deep breath through your nostrils before you blow it out through your barely parted lips as you put your hands up by your face and put one leg back in a classic fighting stance.

            _Right jab._

_Right jab._

_Turn heel, left jab._

_Right hook._

_Left hook._

_Lean back, chamber the kick, and let it go._

            You blush as you back away from the bag slowly, cautiously looking over to Poe as you survey his expression for anything that might be considered praise, but he just stands with his hands tucked underneath his armpits, surveying your movements closely. “Nice, nice,” he finally says as he bucks his head forward in a series of tight, stiff nods. Your jaw tightens as he walks over to you as if to show you something, but suddenly Garrett steps in front of you protectively, creating an unnecessary element of tension into the room.

            “Um?” Poe quirks an eyebrow and tilts his head to the side as he glances from Garrett to you, and you quickly sigh as you shake your head.

            “It’s okay, Garrett,” you say quickly as you gently push at his upper arm, urging him off. “Captain Dameron is a…he’s a friend. I appreciate your assistance, but you can stand down.”

            “You sure?” Garrett asks quickly, but Poe simply moves around him as he comes to stand behind you.

            “May I?” he asks as he holds up both hands in the air, and you can feel a quick flush take over your cheeks as you nod your head forward in a tight series of nods.

            “Sure, yeah, uh, yeah.”

            At Poe’s direction, you turn to face the bag again as you dip your leg back in a fighting stance. Almost immediately, Poe’s hands find their way around your midriff and suddenly all thoughts seem to slip from your mind at the close amount of contact. If Poe notices that your breathing has suddenly shallowed, he makes no mention of it as he turns to gesture towards the bag. “You’re doing a lot of things right,” Poe explains. “But a few things wrong, and I don’t want you to get hurt so we’re going to get through this step by step, okay?”

            “Sure thing,” you say simply, and you’re almost amazed how normal and unaffected your voice sounds considering your wayward emotions.

            “Now,” Poe begins. “The way that you’re throwing the jab across and turning your whole body into the punch? That’s very good, the way that you turn your heel is exactly what you’re supposed to be doing to make sure you get the full amount of force into the hit.”

            “I learned that from Garrett.”

            “Good,” Poe says with a quick nod. “But I want to make sure you’re punching correctly so you don’t hurt your hand. Remember, if you break your fingers it’s going to make flying that much more difficult, and we don’t want that now, do we?”

            “Not really.”

            “Exactly,” Poe agrees. “Before you throw a punch, the first thing that you need to do is make a proper fist. Now when you…” You hold your hand out in front of him to show him what you had been doing so far. “Yes, just like that, but instead take your thumb and wrap it around your fingers.”

            “That’s what I was doing, wasn’t I?”

            “Hard to tell from where I was standing,” Poe admits. “But you’re holding your fist much too tightly. Keep your fist tight, but not so tight that it hurts your wrist. Now, when you’re punching, you’re going to want to make sure to keep your first two knuckles in your hand lined up with the bones in your forearm to make sure you don’t hurt yourself. Some people punch with the side of their fist near their ring and pinky knuckles, and I can tell you from experience that that’s the fastest way to get your hand broken.”

            “So I should punch…here?” you ask, demonstrating an area of your hand, but Poe just shakes his head.

            “Punch with your knuckles, not with the flats of your fingers,” he explains. “You want to aim with your first two knuckles. When you throw a punch, slightly tilt your wrist down. It’ll make your punch stronger and it’ll put your knuckles in front of your fingers, lining up your wrist with your forearm and reducing the chance you’re going to snap your wrist back or break something. Give it a try.”

            You peddle your feet a few times, keeping both fists near your face before you suddenly pull your fist back and strike the bag. The sound that it makes when it hits the dense fabric is much more solid, and your eyebrows shoot up in an involuntary gesture of surprise. “See?” Poe asks, a self-satisfied smirk slipping over his features. “Sounds a lot better now, doesn’t it?”

            “Feels better, too,” you say appreciatively as you pull your hand back to get a glimpse at your knuckles. “Thanks for the tip.”

            “I’m not done with you yet,” Poe tells you with a light chuckle as you dip your leg back into another fighting stance. “Still a bit more I have to teach you. I don’t want to see you dislocating your shoulder on that hook.” You glance down at your arm as if it’s suddenly something alien that’s become attached to your body, and Poe chuckles in understanding. “You’re doing fine, I just want to make sure you don’t get hurt, that’s all.”

            “No, no, I appreciate it,” you say quickly as you nod your head up and down to show your enthusiasm. “What am I doing wrong? Tell me.”

            “Well, for one…” Poe’s voice trails off as he moves your other non-dominant fist towards your face, placing it at a slight angle up in front of your chin. “Always keep your guard up when you’re striking to protect your face. Now…” He walks around to the other side of your body as he takes your other arm in his hands.

            “To get maximum power from the punch, always try to keep your arm at a ninety-degree angle, or at least as close to it as you think you can get. When you’re throwing the punch itself, I see that you’re rotating your body, and that’s good, that will give you a lot more power, but you also want to pivot on your front foot too. Bend your knees and really follow through with the punch, but don’t lock your shoulder so much. Keep your form tight but your strike relaxed. Does that make sense?”

            “Sort of,” you admit nervously. Everything that Poe was recommending seemed to be things that you thought you already had been doing, and to be honest, you were a bit concerned between the apparent disconnect between your mind and your body.

            “Give it a shot,” Poe advises as he takes two steps back away from you and you peddle your feet again before you step forward and swing your fist around, making sure to pivot your foot and turn your body while keeping your arm at a tight angle as well. “Good, that was much better.”

            You still didn’t think that you were doing anything differently, but apparently you were slowly learning, and at least you were doing better instead of worse. “What about my kick?” you ask as you turn to him. “Anything to critique there, or was that good?”

            “Hm.” Poe makes a noise low in his throat as he purses his lips together and tries to think. “I don’t remember,” he finally admits as he sits back on his heels a bit, holding out his hands as if he was waiting to catch something. “Here, try to kick me.”

            “I’m not going to kick you.”

            “That’s why I said _try_.” Poe winks at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes even as a smirk pulls at the corner of your lips.

            You get your feet back into position, making sure to keep both arms up in front of your body for defense in case you needed it, either against an unknown assailant or against Poe. You had no idea if he was going to try to counter you in some way, and so you wanted to be prepared. You go through the movement slowly, raising your rear leg for the kick and bending it back so that your calf is almost touching your thigh, pointing your knee out to the side, quickly leaning your torso in the opposite direction to give you as much balance as you could. Having successfully chambered the kick, you push your foot out in order to kick him, and that’s when Poe’s hands close around your ankle.        

            For a moment, time seems to stand still before you realize that you are standing off-balance with your foot in Poe’s hands. Your first impulse is to struggle and try to pull away, but you know if you do you’re probably going to land on your knees. “Just relax,” Poe tells you, his voice suddenly much softer than before, and for some reason, his sudden gentle disposition makes you listen. You let out a tight breath through your nostrils, and your body does seem to relax a bit. You’re standing on one foot with the other one held in Poe’s hands, and as he locks his eyes with yours, he suddenly lets your foot go. You waver, but only slightly, before you rechamber your kick and land squarely on both feet, as if nothing had ever happened.

            “Wow,” Poe says, and the look on his face says so much more than words ever could. “You have incredible balance.”

            “Natural talent, I guess,” you offer as you shrug your shoulders, but there’s nothing more you can think of to say. You knew once you became queen that you’d have to learn to be better at receiving a compliment, but that was a skill that you could learn a later time. As for right now, blushing would have to do.

            “It shows you’re improving,” Poe says as he smiles warmly in your direction. “Who knows, maybe if being Queen of Draboon doesn’t work out, we could always make a spot for you here. Ever thought about fighting for the Resistance?”

            Garrett snorts loudly as he crosses his arms over his chest, as if he thought that such a remark was insulting not just to you but to the people of Draboon. Regardless, you know Poe’s humor and you know that he never meant any offense by the remark.

            “I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, pressing laughter into your voice in the hopes to appease both parties, and Poe just nods in your direction.

            “I was just going to grab some food with the others,” Poe says as he jerks his thumb back towards the door. “Any chance you’d like to join me?”

            “Yeah,” you say as you re-adjust the front of your shirt slightly. You send a quick glance back in Garrett’s direction more for the formality of the gesture than anything else before you turn back to Poe. “Yeah, although I think I should probably take a quick shower first.” You can’t help the sly grin that pulls at the corner of your lip. “And maybe you should consider one as well, Commander.”

            “I’ll consider it,” Poe replies as he winks in your direction, and you can feel your cheeks flush with heat before he gives you a lazy salute as he turns and heads out the door.

            You quickly turn back to Garrett, who is still standing with his arms crossed over his chest. His face is impassive, and you can tell by the look on his face that he was unimpressed by what you would consider to be Commander Dameron’s… _charm_. Regardless, whatever comments he wants to make, he keeps to himself, as he knows he should. Not only was it not his place to comment on such an esteemed individual in the Resistance, but he knew that it would probably only strain his relationship with you as well. You regarded him as a friend, yes, but at times like this, it was important to remember that you would one day be Queen of Draboon, and he was simply a member of your security detailing. It didn’t mean you had to treat him as though he was beneath you, but there were certain rules of decorum that were in place that prevented you from being as honest with each other as you maybe would have liked to be.

            You steady your gaze in Garrett’s direction and he seems to sense that your training is over as he straightens up a bit, stiffening his jaw as he waits for his next order. “I’m going to join Commander Dameron for lunch,” you tell him, trying to keep your voice as even as you can possibly muster. “Will you be able to put this equipment away by yourself?”

            “Yes, Your Highness,” Garrett says with a quick nod of his head. “Would you like an escort back to your room?”

            “No, I think I can find my own way, thanks,” you say quickly, and you give a curt nod in his direction as you begin to head towards the door. There’s something else you want to say, and the words and turning themselves over in your mind. You don’t have to say it, you know you don’t have to, and he’s not expecting it, but for some reason it would feel wrong not to. And yet, as you continue to say nothing, it only grows more and more awkward if you wait to say anything at all, and the distance between you and the door is closing with every second.

            “Garrett?” Your body spins around almost of its own accord, almost knocking you off balance. “I just wanted to say, um, thank you, for everything. I know this was not a part of your assignment, but I appreciate you taking the time to help train me. It’s much appreciated and it will not be forgotten.”

            “It was my pleasure, Your Highness,” Garrett says with a steep bow, and for the second time that day, you find a heat rising to your cheeks, but you can’t find any words to accompany them. You nod in his direction before you turn around and leave the room without another glance back.

            As you walk back towards your quarters, you pass by the corridor to the hangar, where you hear a loud _clang_ followed by a series of crashes and a string of beeping that sounded like it was coming from Poe’s BB droid. Concerned, you decide to take a look.

            Inside the hangar, there’s a flurry of activity around one of the A-Wings. Poe’s small droid seems to be shooing away a gathered crowd, letting no one near it. As you approach, someone in the back of the crowd scoffs with disgust and taps the back of the person ahead of him, giving a little shake of his head. Soon, the small crowd of mechanics disperses, leaving just you and BB-8 next to one of your guard’s A-Wings. Which one, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was that this was one of yours by the telltale blue flower under the wingtip cannon.

            BB-8 makes what you could only describe as a frustrated sound, his head drooping slightly as he began to sort through piles of parts on a nearby shelf. You watched as he made small, neat stacks of parts by a logic you couldn’t understand. None of the parts seemed alike. The best you could tell was that some stacks of parts were unmistakably part of a weapons system or a repulsor array. Beyond that, there was no unifying logic you could discern, only the drive to organize the chaotic results of the crowd into some semblance of order. Even though you didn’t understand it, BB-8 clearly did.

            A Weequay mechanic walked by, looked around at the stacks, and shook his head, muttering something you didn’t understand. He asks a short question, and BB-8 swivels his head around and grabs a small part and hands it to him with a short beep in reply, all without missing a beat as his other claw sorted the piles. Finally, it seemed all the piles were sorted, but BB-8’s head kept swiveling from one side to the other, as if he was missing something.

            He spots something under a nearby shelf and rolls over to pick it up, whistling excitedly as he does so. He rolls under the A-Wing, opens a flap and upon looking inside, gives two chirps that sound like _“uh-oh.”_ A disc-headed skeletal maintenance droid looks up from its work nearby and walks over towards BB-8 and seems to ask BB-8 if he wanted help. BB-8’s head swivels between the part in his claw and the maintenance droid before answering in a series of beeps and whistles you didn’t understand. Eventually, the maintenance droid gives a long sigh with a shake of its head before heading back to the crate of parts it was working on. Whatever was wrong with this A-Wing, it looked like it was threatening to ground one of your guards, so it seemed worthwhile to investigate.

            “Hello, BB-8. Is there a problem with the ship?”

            BB-8 swivels quickly at the sound of your voice as if startled, then launches into a flurry of beeps and tweets you didn’t understand. Whatever it was, BB-8 was clearly passionate about it, but you couldn’t understand the mechanical language of astromech droids. You shake your head. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re saying. _Maybe_ if you slowed down? Or maybe if you had a protocol droid?”

            BB-8 makes an indignant noise in response to that question, and rolls over to a nearby crate, fishing out a computer screen and a portable power supply, connecting them and propping the screen against the lamp-shaped power supply. He gives a couple of short tweets, and as he does so, the words _Test, test_ , appear on the screen.

_Protocol droids are terrible for maintenance work. The General’s golden helper claims he once worked as a farmhand and lost his arm building a bridge, but he wouldn’t know a hyperdrive core from a repulsor regulator even with the manual in front of him. Normally fighter pilots have to learn astromech Binary as part of their training, but with so few weeks here Poe and I didn’t have time to teach you. Enough about me, though. Iris Two has a malfunctioning hyperdrive motivator and it needs to be fixed immediately or else the hyperdrive core will eventually vaporize and take your guard out with it. The prOBlem iS, ReD taPe -- hoLd on._

            BB-8 grabs a nearby wrench and uses it to firmly tap the top of the screen a few times.

_This illustrates my point exactly. Your mother’s aid allowed us to buy many much-needed parts to fix up the Starfighter Corps, but the parts don’t do us any good stuck in a warehouse on Kuat, tied up in the red tape inherent to an unsanctioned naval force’s acquisitions. So since the delivery is rather delayed, we have to make do with what we have or else do without. I can fix your guard’s hyperdrive for now, but it’s going to be complicated and I need your help. Besides, as the new commander of Iris Squadron, it’s about time you learned about maintenance as one of your command duties. In a fighter squadron, everyone pitches in,_ especially _the commander._

            Poe’s stained jumpsuit from this morning immediately comes to mind. If the work held similar results in store for you, your mother would _definitely_ not approve.

            “What do you need me to do?”

_It’s pretty simple. Do you see the steel crate with the radiation markings?_

            BB-8 extends a claw, pointing to a dull metal crate with a large diamond-shaped radiation warning label.

_The crate is shielded, so it’s extremely heavy. Don’t bother trying to drag it over here. You’ll need to take out a part and put it in that crate before I can work on the hyperdrive motivator. The part is extremely radioactive, so you’ll need to wear one of the full flight suits and a helmet from over there. Because of the radiation, as soon as I open the flap, I’m effectively blind until you get the part into the crate and shut the lid, so make it quick. Once you’re in the flight suit, I’ll give you the tool you need._

            You walk over to the cart full of orange flight suits, vests and helmets that BB-8 had pointed to, and look through the boxes until you find an item of each type that seemed to fit you. They were all surprisingly heavy, probably due to a shielding material. You gather your bundle of items together and look around, wondering where you would change into the suit, but BB-8’s sharp whistle cuts your search short.

_To be honest, it looks like you’ve been working hard recently, so you might as well just put the suit on over what you have and we can get to it._

            As impudent as the comment might have been, BB-8 had a point. You shrugged as you proceeded to wrestle yourself into the flight suit and vest, finishing with the gloves and helmet, carefully pulling the visor down over your face. If only your mother could see you now. Sweating, exhausted and in a “common uniform.” As hot as it was, this was what fighter pilots wore.

            You couldn’t wait.

            “How does it look?”

_Like you’re fresh out of ground school. Poe will fix it when you do your hyperspace lessons, but it’s good enough for the work. Here’s the spanner. When I open the cover, you’ll see an oval-shaped metal case held on by three bolts. That’s the collector array. Undo the bolts, leave them by me, and put the array in the crate. Once that’s done, get out of the suit before you pass out from dehydration. It’s a common problem for humans without the additional fighter support systems._

            BB-8 holds the spanner out to you and you take it.

_Know which way to undo the bolts?_

            You nod and turn the spanner to the left a few times.

_Good. I’m going to open the cover. Ready?_

            You nod and step under the A-Wing with BB-8. He opens the flap and you can see what he’s talking about: an egg-shaped metal part with radiation markings held on by three bolts. You carefully undo the bolts, setting each one down by BB-8, then gently tug at the part until it pops out. You walk quickly to the storage crate, deposit the part, and close the lid. Immediately, you rip off your helmet and take in a large gasp of the cool air. You take a minute to cool down before you turn to BB-8 and give him a breathless thumbs-up. He makes a sound you could only describe as a happy laugh as he extends a welding tool and ignites the pilot light, returning his own “thumbs-up.”

_You look like you had fun. I’ll have Pete bring you some water. You can take off the rest of the suit. You won’t need it for this._

            You shake your head in reply. You were determined to fly a starfighter before you left here, so you needed to get used to the feel of a flight suit. “I’m fine for now. Some water would be great though, thank you.”

            BB-8 just stops and stares at you for a few seconds before whistling something the screen did not translate. The droid from before looks your way and grabs a nearby canteen, running it over to you.

            “Thank you, Pete.”

            Pete just chatters and nods in reply before returning to the crate he was working on.

_Take a break and drink the water. I’ll be done in a second._

            BB-8 shoots a cable into the side of the A-Wing and pulls himself up next to the ship. As you drink from the canteen, you hear sparking and can see the unmistakable blue flashes of welding under the ship. Shortly, BB-8 reappears dangling from his grapple cable, only retracting it once he was safely on the ground.

_That will hold for another few weeks at least. Tell your sergeant not to try anything too fancy during a hyperspace jump. Ready to put it back together?_

            You get up and fetch your helmet. “Ready.”

            You follow BB-8 as he rolls back under the fighter and points out the bolt holes and the three bolts he’s arranged to match their corresponding holes. Once you’re sure you know where the bolts go, you pull your helmet and gloves back on and walk over to the shielded crate. You check your gloves one more time before opening the crate and retrieve the collector, carefully walking over to the A-Wing with it and placing it into its slot. As you’re holding the part in place, you look down for the bolts and realize BB-8 is holding one up. You take it from him and twist it into place. BB-8 hands you the next two bolts this way, and once you’ve twisted the last one into place, you look down again to find him holding up the spanner for you.

            “Thank you.”

            You tighten down all the bolts with the spanner, then once you’re satisfied that you can’t tighten them down any further, you close the flap and remove your helmet.

            “Is that it?”

_Yep. That’s it. Pretty simple job, fitting for your first time. Go on and get cleaned up so you can study. Poe is really strict about hyperspace with new pilots._

            “Roger that, BB-8. Thanks for the lesson.”

            You turn to leave the hangar, feeling more confident than you had in ages. You had always thought that mechanical work was far beyond your means, but with BB-8 coaching you through it, you had done just fine.

            Just before you can leave, however, you’re momentarily halted as someone appears in the doorway to the hangar. “Poe?”  

            “Oh-?” Poe does a double take as he looks you up and down, as if he hadn’t recognized you. He puts his hand on his chin as he considers you, taking a quick peek behind him. “Didn’t I just leave you back there in the gym?”

            “A short while ago,” you remind him. “I thought you were going to get a shower and then join everyone for lunch.”

            “The General wanted a quick word,” Poe says by way of explanation. “Although I thought you were doing the same.”

            “I was going to,” you explain. “But on my way back, I heard a crash and saw that BB-8 needed some help with one of my ships. He had me put on a flight suit to help with the radiation shielding and he talked me through what to do.”

            Poe gnaws on his lower lip, and for once you can’t make out his expression. “Don’t get me wrong, the suit looks good on you, but I wouldn’t want you to take any unnecessary risks while you’re here. Didn’t BB-8 explain-”

            “That I could pass out?” you ask. “He did, but I didn’t, and then Pete brought me some water. I’m okay.” You roll your shoulders. “Hey, I have to learn some time, right? I’m the Commander of Iris Squadron after all.”

            Poe considers you again before his lips pull back in a happy grin. He opens his mouth to say something before he shakes his head, as if he literally couldn’t find the words to say. Almost on cue, BB-8 whistles something to him as he rolls by, circling Poe’s legs once before he rolls out of the hangar.

            “We communicated by that console over there,” you say as you throw your thumb lazily over your shoulder to indicate the space behind you. “Since I haven’t learned astromech Binary yet. What did he say?” Poe again has the most peculiar expression on his face. “Poe?”

            “Nothing,” Poe says quickly, almost a little too quickly. He shakes his head back and forth before he glances back after BB-8. “So Black Squadron’s probably already finished eating by now, but would you like to join me for lunch?”

            You beam up at him as you take his proffered arm. “It would be my pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Reader are definitely growing closer...when I said slow burn, I meant it, but don't worry, we'll get there eventually. In the meantime, Reader gets a holo from her mother with unexpected news from Draboon, which may put our Reader in an awkward position with the Resistance. Until next time, cheers!! 
> 
> PS: And fans of Signs and Smoke Signals will definitely recognize Pete making a cameo appearance...I have to admit, he's slightly creepy, but he grew on me.


	7. Chapter 7

            “Shuttle One-one-seven-three-five-Bravo, this is Yavin Defense Command. Your arrival has been noted. Maintain distance and identify yourself and all escorts.”

            The simulation droid had a remarkable ability to chill you with its commanding voice, no matter how tiny it was. At least you had “arrived” in the Yavin system in one piece, unlike the past two tries. Luckily, Poe had you practicing on the shuttle’s onboard simulator, so that you _could_ try again. No matter how hard you had studied the day before, nothing short of experience could have prepared you for how difficult hyperspace navigation could be.

            That was just what you were getting here, experience, minus the inconvenience of death by _stellar mass collision_ as the simulator called it. You had spent most of the morning plotting simple routes from system to system, then graduated to small coordinated jumps with fighter escorts and advanced notification of your arrival. Every jump was different, no matter how similar the calculations might be; there was no such thing as a routine jump. Now that it was late in the afternoon, it seemed “Yavin Defense Command” had failed to receive your arrival notice. This was definitely a test, but this time there was no warning.

            “Yavin Defense Command, this is Shuttle One-one-seven-three-five-Bravo, registered to Draboon Royal Admiralty, craft number Three-seven-nine-four-one. I transmitted my arrival notice and credentials nine standard hours ago. My royal guard consists of four RZ-1 interceptor starfighters as detailed in the manifest.”

            “Roger, Iris. I see your transmission now. Intersystem communications have been spotty in this sector due to pirate activity. Stand by.”

            You turn to Poe during the long pause. “Is there something wrong? It never takes this long.”

            Poe just nods his head as he replies, “Even in my home system, things don’t always move as fast as it seems they should.”

_Yep. Something is definitely wrong._

            “Iris Shuttle, there seems to be a problem with your credentials. Please confirm the last seven digits of your encryption signature.”

            _Great._ _It begins_.

            “Yavin, the last seven digits are seven-one-one-four-nine-nine-zero.”

            Another long pause.

            “Maintain course and stand by.”

            A new voice cuts in that you had come to recognize as the droid’s poor imitation of Toka’s voice. “Commander, we have incoming. A squadron of Republic X-Wings just dropped out of hyperspace. Eighty-fives by the look of them.” 

            An authoritarian voice cuts into the comm. “Iris Shuttle, this is Saber Squadron. Please confirm your passenger manifest.”

            You weren’t sure what this was supposed to be testing, but you had learned several scenarios ago to just play along as if it was real. Lesson one was that if there was a problem with the Republic, neither of you was with the Resistance. “Saber Leader, Iris Leader. This shuttle is carrying Draboonian royalty and one retired Republic officer with customary Draboonian honor guard escort.”

            “I see, Iris Leader. Maintain course and make way for landing zone seventeen. If you deviate from your course, I have orders to force you to the surface.”

            _What?_ “Saber Leader, I don’t understand. What seems to be the problem?”

            There’s the sound of someone shuffling before the reply comes back, “Iris Leader, you have been implicated in a piracy incident in conjunction with the Guavian Death Gang. Please have your flight logs ready for inspection.”

            It seemed simple enough to you. A simple misunderstanding that would be quickly resolved by an inspection of the ship’s logs. You descend through Yavin 4’s atmosphere and as you park the shuttle at the landing zone, the simulation freezes.

            “How do you know this was a legitimate interception? What if _they_ had been pirates masquerading as the New Republic?” Poe asks.

            You take a breath as you formulate your response. Poe had a point, but either way, it didn’t matter who they were. An enforcement interception, whether legitimate or false, would immediately respond to resistance with destruction. “If they _had been_ pirates, I would have a significant advantage of maneuverability closer to the ground anyway, and if they were actually with the New Republic, the logs would clear up the misunderstanding. Either way, it would make sense to comply with initial interception directions.”

_But…_

            “If, somehow, pirates had managed to usurp the entire defense command and were masquerading as the New Republic, a distress call should have gone out.” You open the map of the galaxy and search for the nearest Republic sector capital and find Taris. “A call to the sector command at Taris would quickly resolve the service record of Saber Squadron and initiate emergency identity verification.”

            Poe just nods with approval and motions for you to leave the shuttle with him. “That’s about all I had for today, and after twelve straight hours of this, you must be exhausted.”

            In truth, you were so caught up in the simulations that the time had just flown by. Besides, you were used to longer days on Draboon. “Maybe a little, but I’m used to a longer schedule anyways. On Draboon, we do have-”

            Suddenly, you stop talking as you see Garrett heading towards you, his stride set and full of purpose as his arms swing at his sides. “Your Highness,” he says as he stops short in front of you, bowing his head in reverence.

            “Garrett,” you say, your voice touched with a slight element of concern. “Is everything all right?”

            “You-” Garrett pauses for a moment, closing his mouth as he chooses his next words carefully before he speaks again. “We have received a holo from your mother. Right now, she is waiting in one of the main chambers that the Resistance has reserved for such meetings.”

            That was odd. Given the time difference between D’Qar and Draboon, your mother should have retired to bed a few hours ago.

            “Is she all right?” you ask quickly, tilting your head to one side as you study his face. “Do you know why she’s trying to contact me so early? It’s unusual for her to be still up at this time.”

            “I’m not sure, Your Highness,” Garrett replies with a shake of his head. “I believe that she may want a progress report on how your skills as a pilot are developing, but beyond that I couldn’t say.”

            “Well then,” you say quickly as you turn to Poe, unable to hide the mischievous glint in your eye. “Perhaps you should come with me. After all, I’m sure you could explain my progress to my mother much more articulately than I can.”

            “If you insist,” Poe replies as he gestures out in front of him, and you just bow your head succinctly as Garrett leads the way to the room where your mother was undoubtedly waiting impatiently for your arrival. In truth, you did not want Poe to come along just to talk about your training. With his presence there, your mother would be less inclined to talk about any topics that you deemed unsavory, such as your choice of wardrobe or what recreational activities you had been participating in on base. It wasn’t so much that you were concerned what she had to say, but you could only take her emphasis on behaving properly so many times before it turned into downright _nagging_. You weren’t a child anymore, and you refused to let yourself be treated as such. At least with Commander Dameron there, you assumed she would make sure not to say anything that would embarrass you, nor her, in any way.

            Garrett stops short in front of one of the rooms down a long and narrow hallway, gesturing towards the doorway with one hand. “She’s inside,” he says as he activates the panel on the door to open it, and you thank him quietly as both you and Poe disappear inside, leaving Garrett to guard the outer door. You weren’t quite sure what he was guarding against, considering the entire hallway had been completely deserted, but at least this way you knew your conversation wouldn’t be interrupted, and no one could eavesdrop on what you were saying.

            Well, you supposed that was only half true. You had no idea if this com had open channels, and you weren’t quite sure if the Resistance would be able to selectively splice into your feed to record the transmission without you or your mother being aware of it.

            “There you are,” your mother says as you enter the room, and you can’t help but blush suddenly as you feel ridiculously self-conscious.

            “Here I am,” you confirm, trying to dismiss the wayward blush from your cheeks.

            “And it seems you’ve brought a friend? Commander Dameron, how good it is to see you again.”

            “Queen Lyri,” Poe replies promptly as he dips into a steep bow, and it’s almost all you can do not to roll your eyes in embarrassment. Regardless, you could tell that something was up. Your mother seemed much too excited and much less composed than she usually was, and you wondered if something had indeed happened, and that this conversation was something much more than just a simple progress report on the status of your affairs at the Resistance.

            “I hope you don’t mind that I brought Commander Dameron along,” you say quietly as you gesture faintly in his direction. “I thought you might like to hear the progress that I’ve been making regarding my training under his tutelage.”

            “I would,” your mother says as she nods her head forward. “Commander Dameron, what have you to report?”

            “She is doing remarkably well,” Poe says as he steps forward a little ways, to stand directly in front of the holo. “She is clearly committed to her work and is quite devoted to her studies, often inquiring beyond the scope of the assigned reading. This dedication to the assigned work has paid dividends in her flight ability, earning her the right to perform solo practice flights under the watch of her fighter escort. She has demonstrated an aptitude for flight, employing quite advanced capabilities within the relatively short instructional period. I believe she could easily pass the New Republic diplomatic flight exams, should she take them. She is a great credit to your people.” Poe seems to have more that he wants to say, but he senses that he is quickly losing her interest and decides to stop there.

            “I’m glad to hear it,” your mother says as her eyes drift over towards you, but there’s something dismissive about her tone, as if she hardly cared about the progress that you had been making as a pilot. If anything, she seemed to have news that she wanted to share with you, and it didn’t seem like she was in any mood to wait and entertain any other subject until she had said what she wanted to say.

            “Mother,” you say quickly as you step forward. “What of home? How is Draboon? Do you have any news for me?”

            “I do,” your mother says, her tone brightening considerably as a smile pulls at the corners of her lips. “I’ve found you a husband.”

            Poe glances aside to see your expression, but you’re not even quite sure one registers. Your jaw drops in shock, and for a moment you just gape at her like you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. “A, a husband?” you manage after some duration of time has passed. “Mother, what are you talking about?”

            “Some recent developments have come to light that have made me consider that I have been on this throne for far too long,” your mother begins, fluffing out her hair behind her. “It is time for Draboon to recognize a new ruler, time to get accustomed to a fresher face…”

            “I’m not ready,” you tell her, your expression set with purpose as your hands clench into fists at your sides. “Mother, I expected this in a few years, but right now _I_ am _not_ ready for-”

            “Ready or not, Draboon is ready for you,” your mother says as she shrugs her shoulders. “And you are certainly more than prepared for this. You have known you were going to take up my place someday your entire life. Surely you can’t imagine this to be of any surprise.”

            “I might be more inclined to take this whole matter more seriously if I wasn’t suddenly under the threat of being betrothed,” you mutter under your breath, and your mother lets out a small laugh, as if this amuses her.

            “The threat,” she repeats with a firm shake of her head. “Sometimes, I just can’t understand you. I have found a _perfect_ match for you, and I’ll have you know that his father is _quite_ an agreeable man.”

            Your jaw drops slightly, and you can’t help but sink your forehead into the palm of your hand. The only thing worse than hearing this was having Poe hear this, or rather, running the risk of having anyone else find out about this. It seemed that your mother had become infatuated with a man, and was now encouraging, no, _mandating,_ you to marry his son in order to, what? Win his favor? You had some choice words to share with her, but you didn’t feel comfortable doing that in front of Poe, and considering what he had just learned, you didn’t feel ready to dismiss him quite yet either, not until you left him with a stern reminder of what the word _confidential_ meant.

            “I don’t know what to say,” you admit at length, although you’re addressing the wall behind the transparent holo rather than her translucent form. “I literally, honestly, don’t know what to say to you right now.”

            “You have often told me that your Mother is often noted for her wise and sage decisions,” Poe pipes up suddenly. “I’m sure when you meet your suitor you’ll be quite pleased with the arrangement.” He turns halfway between you and your mother. “I’m sure it’s understandable to be leery of the prospect of marriage when you don’t even know who you’re marrying, isn’t it?” You’re not sure if it’s Poe’s flattery or logic that wins her over, not that you truly have to think that hard about the answer, but whichever the case, she seems to agree with him.

            “I can see you must make a fine instructor, Commander Dameron, as you are quite right,” your mother agrees with a firm nod of her head. She fiddles with something out of view of the holo for a moment before she holds up a small projector and the shape of a man suddenly pops into view on the small display she’s holding in front of her. The man is standing at parade rest, shoulders square with his arms clasped behind his back, and you can tell immediately from the way he’s carrying himself that he’s had some sort of military training. Besides the crisp black dress uniform that he’s wearing, you can see his hair was cut short and his face seemed stern and set with purpose. He wasn’t altogether _bad_ looking, but you wouldn’t go as far as to say he was attractive either. There was a coldness about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, although you were at least willing to say that that impression might have just been gathered through the distortion of the holo.

            “So am I going to get any details?” you ask as you arch an eyebrow. Your voice still sounds glum, but if this was truly the path that your mother had chosen for you, you weren’t quite sure you could deviate from it now. “What’s his name? Where’s he from? What’s he like?”

            “His name is Kole Praxton,” your mother tells you as she glances down at the holo for herself. “I have met him myself, and I can tell you that he’s _very_ charming and quite eager to meet you. I believe he was raised on a planet called Arkanis, and…”

            Your mother keeps talking, but her voice suddenly becomes distorted as the holo flickers in front of your field of vision. “Mother?” you ask. You tilt your head to the side in concern, but before she has time to respond, the holo cuts out completely. “What…?” You turn around to face Poe and demand an explanation, only to see him fiddling with something on his watch. He turns to look at you, his expression grave, and that’s when you put two and two together.

“You did that. You cut the transmission.”

            “I had to,” Poe says immediately as he steps forward, placing both hands on your shoulders as he lowers his face towards yours. This is the closest to you that he’s ever been, and you can’t help but let a myriad of emotions cross over your features as you study his face, which is flickering with such a solemn expression that you almost had a hard time placing him for a brief moment. “Listen to me, very carefully. We know _exactly_ who that is. Kole Praxton is a known senior member of the First Order. His father was a high-ranking Imperial officer and there’s not a chance that they don’t know you’re here.”

            His eyes are burning into yours, trying to impress upon you how serious this was, but you don’t need to be told twice. “Are my people in danger?” you ask firmly, and to his credit, Poe seems to hesitate somewhat as he considers this.

            “I’m not sure,” he admits. “I’m going to let the General know. As soon as I re-engage the holo, tell her that it was a technical glitch and find out all you can about him and what he wants.”

            You hesitate for a moment before you take a step back away from him, shaking your head from side to side as you consider this. “It seems I was foolish to come here,” you admit at length. “Draboon has never wanted to get deeply involved in this skirmish, and now it appears we have.” You pause for a moment as you drop your gaze. “It was my selfish regard for my own interests that seems to have put us in this position.” You roll your shoulders as you drop them unpleasantly by your sides. “At the very least it seems I’ll be made to suffer for them.”

            “Hey, no,” Poe says, stepping forward to put his hands on your upper arms this time. “Listen to me, okay? Just listen. Whatever reasons you had for coming out here, they came from a good place, okay? You have friends here, and we’re not going to make you suffer for something that isn’t your fault. The First Order is ruthless, and manipulative, and…”

            “And I’m not sure this concerns you,” you tell him unhappily. “Look, Poe, I appreciate where you’re coming from, but this isn’t a Resistance issue, this is a Draboonian issue. I’ve always known in the back of my mind that my mother was probably going to force me to marry someone I didn’t want to, and I’ve more or less accepted that, despite how much I wished it wasn’t true.” Your gaze hardens somewhat. “But if what you say is true and that man truly does work for the First Order, then I will not risk sitting idly by while my planet falls to its corruption. My mother may have been coerced, but if she is truly willing to abdicate the throne to me, then it is no longer her decision.” You gesture towards the door. “Go. Tell Leia what’s happened, and I’ll find out as much information as I can. As of now, it seems our interests are aligned, but do not mistake my motives, Commander Dameron. I am not here to help the Resistance. I am here to help protect my people, and I firmly believe that any alliance with the First Order will only hinder that goal.”

            Poe inclines his head in a steep nod to show he understood where you were coming from. “Just be careful,” he warns before he heads out the door, and you can’t help but wrinkle up your nose at the words. Careful? The thought of being less than careful was so ridiculous it was almost amusing.

            You weren’t going to let these thoughts slip to your mother, else you might warn the First Order that you were firmly in the Resistance’s pocket. No, you would play the same sort of game it seemed the First Order was intent on playing, one of subterfuge and manipulation. If you truly were going to be Queen someday, it seemed to be a lesson you would have to learn sooner rather than later, lest there wouldn’t be a throne for you to come back to.

            The image of your mother suddenly comes back into view, and you quickly steady yourself as you push a small smile to your lips. “Commander Dameron apologizes sincerely for the interruption,” you tell her, forcing your voice to be as sincere as you can possibly make it. “Ileenium, the local star, is in a period of peak activity and has been interrupting communications recently. He’s on his way to boost the signal to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

            “Well, let’s hope they use some of the funds I’ve provided to get some better equipment,” your mother sighs, and you nod your head forward in quick agreement.

            “So tell me more about Kole,” you tell her as you cross your arms over your chest, trying to make it seem like she was going to have to tell you everything to convince you that she was making the right decision. “Does he know where I am right now?”

            “Of course he does,” she replies with an idle wave of her hand. “He was so disappointed; he was quite looking forward to meeting you.”

            “Well, he could always come here if he really wants to visit me,” you tell her. A part of you was almost excited that you might be able to get a major player of the First Order into the Resistance’s eager hands, that you might be able to make some personal contribution to their war effort. You should have known, however, that it wouldn’t have been that easy.

            “Oh no,” your mother says as she shakes her head. “Dear, you’re on a _military_ installation. He doesn’t want to intrude. It’s not like they’ll simply welcome visitors, and I would never betray Princess Leia’s trust and just hand over those coordinates without asking.”

            “I mean, they’ve been more than welcoming to me,” you say with an idle shrug of your shoulders, still keeping your arms crossed over your chest. “Or is there another reason that he doesn’t want to come? What are his political affiliations? He must have some, otherwise I doubt you’d be marrying me off to him so soon without waiting to find a better candidate.”

            “Oh, believe me, I have gotten many… _attractive_ offers over the years,” your mother says, and you can’t help but let your eyes widen imperceptibly. “Oh come now, there are many who would benefit from an alliance with Draboon and its resources, and it does help that you are exceptionally pretty. You take after me that way.”

            “I-” Your mouth opens and closes, but it seems that your brain has frozen and you can think of absolutely nothing to say in response. You give your head a quick shake to clear it, but you can’t help but dwell on the fact that there apparently had been offers of marriage made to you without your knowledge. You had thought that was years away, and yet, you had never before considered that you could have been secretly engaged to someone all this time without your knowledge. At least your mother was being up front with you, and hadn’t secretly engaged you to someone without your consent. That was something you seemed to have taken for granted, but you silently appreciated it now.

            “I still don’t like this. I just think that it’s bad timing. I mean, what does he really have to offer us, anyway? And how do we know he’s not working with the First Order? Suddenly the perfect marriage proposal shows up right when I go away to the Resistance for a few weeks? It’s too, I don’t know, sketchy.”

            “I can see that your time at the Resistance has made you more reflective,” your mother notes, but you can’t help but shrug off this comment. You had always been this way, at least to your knowledge, not that she had really taken much time to listen to your ideas. Then again, you hadn’t exactly offered them. When your mother had her mind set on something, that was that, and you didn’t want to waste the energy on a heated argument that you knew you were only going to lose. It simply wasn’t worth the amount of conflict between you. “If that is your concern, then I can put it to rest. He _is_ working with the First Order.”

            “No.” The words are off your lips, fast and immediate, rising in the space between you. “No, Mother, you can’t. You know what the First Order does and what they’re capable of. Why would you make any sort of deal with them? Why would you promise _me_ to them?”

            “You are far overthinking things,” she says in a dismissive tone, but you can feel your heart beating in your chest now. Your mother hadn’t been manipulated; she was throwing you to the wolves headfirst. “Listen, somehow the First Order found out about the funds I pledged to the Resistance and that you were there. They came to me, quite amicably, and simply asked for the same favors in return. Unfortunately, they were displeased with the way we may have backed the Resistance without more thought into the matter.” She pauses for a moment as an expression that you don’t quite recognize crosses over her features. “But they were more than willing to understand that I was just trying to support an old friend. We talked and negotiated terms, and this was the best way to ensure peace not only for Draboon, but to our entire system. They have a stake in Draboon’s economic future as well now, and they will not attack our planet or lead it to ruin.”

            “If you think that I will actually get to be acting Queen of Draboon if you have me marry someone from within the First Order, you’re blinded,” you tell her fiercely, balling your hands into fists at your sides. “This is a ruse; can’t you see that? The First Order rose out of the ashes of the Empire, and the Empire had no qualms against stripping entire planets bare of resources and leaving their people to die. The only reason they let Draboon be was the fact that lapis has no significant military value. The First Order needs funds, so they don’t care that it’s not a military resource. They will take _all_ of Draboon’s resources for themselves and strip it bare. Your people, _our_ people, will suffer needlessly at their hands.”

            It’s right then that your mother does the worst thing she could possibly do in that moment.

            She laughs.

            She dismisses you, as if you were nothing but a silly child that couldn’t think for herself. “You are not capable of seeing this objectively,” she says with a shake of her head. “Alas, I knew this was coming the moment we started our conversation. You’re there with the Resistance, and I’m sure you hear all sorts of stories about the _treachery_ of the First Order without even taking the time to consider if any of them are true. They are both opposite sides fighting a war that we want no part in; if you marry him, it will guarantee our protection.”

            “And if I refuse to marry him?” you ask bitterly. “Has he threatened us?”

            “You are just so determined to see the worst in him,” she says as she shakes her head. “And yet you haven’t even met him. You need to postpone your judgements before you act as hastily as I did when I allowed you to go over there. You need to remember that neither the New Republic nor the Resistance would come to our defense if we ever required it. The New Republic has failed to take our concerns seriously in the past when it came to the protection of our trade routes, but the First Order has promised to look into the matter. They simply have a different ideology as to how the galaxy is to be run, and while they may view things from a stricter perspective, it does not make their methods any less valid than those of the New Republic.”

            “I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” you mutter to yourself, fingertips probing your temple as you shake your head from side to side. You had so much that you wanted to say, and yet you had no idea where you could even begin to tell her what was wrong with this entire situation. “You do realize that this is going to cost us, right? Maybe not now, maybe not right away, but in the future, it will cost us.”

            “My dear,” your mother says with a light laugh as she shakes her head, her lavish updo threatening to collapse if she moved in any greater motions. “I can see your childish flair for the dramatic is something that you have not yet outgrown.”

            “They know I’m on this base somehow, right?” you demand, trying to appeal to at least a sense of logic that she can’t deny. “That means that I _know_ things about the base, like the schematics and such, and you’re right, this _is_ a war. They’re going to want that information.” In the back of your mind, you can picture the people that you sat around and ate with. The people that you were starting to consider as your friends. Unfortunately, you were not going to be able to regard them as such any longer. Apparently, simply even knowing you put them in a dangerous position. “And I’m not going to tell them anything. So what then, mother? How do you think they’re going to draw it out of me?”

            “I’m aware that the First Order has an, _inquisitor_ , of sorts,” your mother says softly, as if she’s reflecting. “However, I’m sure that will not be necessary if you cooperate with them fully.”

            “Inquisitor?” you repeat blankly as you lean forward. “What’s going on, Mother? Did someone do something? Did someone hurt you? Did someone force you into this? If they did, just give me some sort of signal. I’m sure that the Resistance-”

            “Would be unable to help us,” your mother says with a shake of her head. “They don’t have anywhere near the resources or the financial backing that the First Order does. They have been quite busy over the past decade, continuing the work that the Empire started, and they are in a much more favorable position than the Resistance, I’m afraid.”

            You can’t help but screw up your face as you regard her coldly. “And here I thought Leia was a friend. So glad to know that this is how you treat your friends. And your family.”

            “Dramatic,” your mother repeats as she narrows her eyes at you. “And right now we are in a time of war. This is no time to get sentimental. I’m aware that you may have made friends there, and I’m aware that you may have engaged in some flirtatious behavior with Commander Dameron-”

            “Flirtatious?” you echo, heat rising in your cheeks. “Who told you that?”

            “No one needed to,” she says with an idle wave of her hand. “But, as I said, this is no time to get sentimental. In these unfortunate times, it is sometimes necessary to put personal preferences aside for the greater good, and that’s exactly what I am doing. Draboon will benefit from an alliance with the First Order, and you are required to help secure that alliance. Now, I will hear no more talk of this. Am I understood?” She waits for you to speak, but you just stand there with your arms still folded tightly across your chest, your lips pursed shut. “Good. When you meet him, I’m sure your fears will be alleviated. He is quite pleasant and charming, and he is _very_ attractive-”

            “I don’t care,” you say as you shake your head, finally dropping your arms as you look up at her. “I truly don’t care, Mother. This is bigger than you, this is bigger than me, this is bigger than all of us.”

            “I’m glad you understand that,” your mother says. “Just be thankful they’re not requesting that you end your training early, or I would have ordered your guards to bring you straight home. Do take care and give Leia my regards.”

            Just like that, she switches off the holo, and you can feel your heart plummet about twenty stories, as if you had suddenly dropped out of hyperspace much too quickly. A part of you wants to drop to your knees as you struggle to process this information, but no, you would not be what your mother deemed _dramatic_.

            You weren’t trying to do the best for yourself. You didn’t want to marry him, but it wasn’t for selfish reasons as your mother assumed. You knew from what you had heard at the Resistance that the First Order was untrustworthy, and beyond that, you could feel it in your gut. The First Order wanted to take control of Draboon, and a political marriage to you was the quickest and easiest way to secure their hold on your planet. After you were married though, you expected to find yourself either locked in a dungeon for the rest of your days or executed shortly after the ceremony; your mother may have been blinded somehow, or perhaps she was just being optimistic.

            Either way, you weren’t quite sure what you could do about it.

            No, it seemed there was literally only one person in the galaxy who stood a chance of possibly helping you out of your predicament, and to your luck, she was waiting outside in the hall for you as soon as you left the room. Garrett was gone, and although that concerned you just a bit, you were too focused on the seemingly insurmountable trial in front of you to pay it much more of your attention. “Princess Leia.”

            “You look like you could use someone to talk to,” Leia says, keeping her voice soft, and you just nod your head up and down. Leia sighs before she puts a hand on your arm and leads you down the hallway. After a few short turns, she escorts you into a room that looks like some sort of a break room. There’s kitchen appliances along a wall in the far back of the room, and small tables with chairs on either side of them are scattered throughout the room. Leia picks one closest to the door and gestures for you to sit down before she sits down herself.

            “Princess Leia,” you begin, folding your hands on the table in front of you to appear as mature as you possibly could. “I would very much like to be honest with you through this conversation, but first I need you to be honest with me. Were you monitoring the holo or any of the transmission I was exchanging with my mother?”

            “We were,” Leia says without even batting an eye. “All transmissions in and out of our base are automatically recorded to ensure that no sensitive data leaves this base, but I didn’t start viewing your conversation until Poe informed me of your situation.”

            You just nod your head forward slightly, but decide to brush this off. They were in a time of war right now, and it was more than possible that you and your mother were conspiring against her, and Leia was taking every possible precaution to make sure that didn’t happen. As it was, you had nothing to hide, and the fact that your conversation had been overheard only concerned you to the point that you were worried about your own self-image. “It seems my mother has me set to marry a known member of the First Order.”

            “It seems she has,” Leia agrees as she nods her head forward, and you can’t help but let out a frustrated sigh.

            “Well, if you’re here then I take it that you have some sort of plan?” you ask, but Leia just cocks her head to one side quizzically, as if she doesn’t understand what you’re asking. “You were right outside the door when we finished the conversation, and you clearly recognize the importance of having Draboon as an ally. I take it you have some plan as to how to get me out of this.”

            Leia sighs as she shakes her head, and as she glances away, you can see a look of disappointment cross her features, as if she too thought you were too young and naïve. “I can’t get involved in this,” she says at length as she looks back up at you, and you can clearly feel your jaw go slack as you gape at her.

            “You’re the only one-” you start, but you’re silenced with one sharp look.

            “We’re not at open war yet,” Leia says with a shake of her head. “Our goal is to contain the spread of the First Order and monitor its presence in the galaxy, but we have no jurisdiction over your planet. The matters of Draboon are strictly yours, and we cannot get involved.”

            “But you already _are_ involved,” you point out. “The only reason I am in this position is because you sent Poe to ask my mother for money. If she hadn’t given you the funds, I wouldn’t be targeted right now.” Leia sighs as she glances away, but you continue. “You know I’m right. Please understand, it is not solely my safety than I’m worried about. The First Order will torture my people into mining all of the resources from our planet and leave us with nothing. The price of lapis will skyrocket, and the First Order will come out leagues ahead, not only in terms of physical resources, but their financial position will be much greater with all of our reserves at their disposal. They’ll have the ability to not only bankrupt you, but to financially leverage the New Republic as well.”

            Leia just shakes her head. “It’s out of my hands,” she tells you simply, and you can’t help but emit a small cry of frustration.

            “Then why were you waiting outside the door for me?” you demand sullenly. “If you knew you couldn’t help me, then why even bother coming to talk to me about it?”

            “Because we have much bigger concerns to discuss,” Leia tells you as she fixes you with a steely gaze. Her jaw is set and her eyes glint with solemn concern. “Someone in the First Order knew you were here.” You just raise your eyebrows, too incensed to realize what she was trying to intimate. “It means we have a traitor here on base.”

            You just shake your head petulantly, as if this was no concern of yours. To tell the truth, it wasn’t. “I have no jurisdiction over your planet,” you tell her, using her own words against her. “If you have a traitor on this base, I hardly see how I will be of any assistance to you in that regard.”

            “I trust my people,” Leia says in her same firm tone. “Do you trust yours?” Your eyes widen slightly as you realize what she was hinting at. She was trying to imply that it was one of _your_ guards, one of the members of _your_ security detailing who was secretly working for the First Order and feeding information back to them.

            “I do,” you reply vehemently, letting the full force of your tone convey how much of an insult this was not only to you, but to the proud people of Draboon. “My team has been tasked with protecting my life, and I hardly see how feeding the First Order information of my objectives and whereabouts fits into that directive.”

            “How much do you tell them?” Leia asks you, seemingly ignoring your point. “My sources have reported that you seem awfully close with the younger one, Garrett?”

            “He’s a friend,” you say firmly. “And a highly valued and deeply respected member of my team. His integrity is unquestionable.” You give Leia a cold look as you simply shake your head from side to side. “Let’s be honest with each other, shall we? You _need_ it to be Garrett or another member of my security team because it makes your life easier. You can talk about what good Draboon’s financial support will do for your mission, but in reality, it seems to be doing very little, considering the traitor might be a member of your Resistance.”

            To her credit, Leia laughs, but it’s a harsh, bitter sound. “You should hope that it’s one of your own team as well. If someone here is feeding the First Order information as to what goes on here, then we’ve all got much bigger problems to worry about.”

            “And what is going on here?” you ask. “What exactly is the Resistance doing? It was my belief that the Resistance was supposed to stop the First Order from taking control of the galaxy one planet, one system, at a time, but that’s exactly what they seem to be doing, and it doesn’t look like you’re making any considerable effort to stop them.”

            “I understand how this must look from your position,” Leia says, her voice softening slightly. “And I wish I could do more, I really do, but as it stands, I can’t tell you anything. I’m sorry.”

            “No, that’s fine,” you reply, your voice dry yet dripping with sarcasm. “Apparently the First Order has an _inquisitor_ of sorts to extract information out of people, so it’s probably best that I don’t know anything, seeing as how they’re going to want to extract whatever information I can glean here before my inevitable execution.”

            “Inquisitor?” Leia echoes, as if she’s confused, before her face visibly hardens. “They must mean my son.”

            “Your son?” you echo. “Ben Solo? You mean he’s the one torturing people?”

            “It’s torture,” Leia admits through gritted teeth, and you gnaw nervously on your lower lip as you wait for her to explain. “It’s a Force ability. He always was, is, very powerful and gifted in the ways of the Force. He’s, well, I’ve _heard_ that he’s been able to master a technique in which he can probe the minds of others, to extract whatever useful information he requires.”

            “Well, that sounds painful and invasive,” you tell her matter-of-factly, and Leia shoots you a look to say that this was obvious.

            “Trust in the Force,” Leia advises. “If you can think of something that I can do to help, then I’d love to hear it, but as of right now, I can’t get involved. Consider it a matter of intersystem diplomacy. Please remember that your mother is still the Queen, and she has not asked for our involvement.”

            “But if she did?” you ask skeptically. “If she did ask for your help, if she told you that she and her planet had been threatened by the First Order, what would you do then?”

            Leia hesitates for a moment, as if visibly contemplating your question, but a small part of you thinks that she may simply be stalling for time, and you can’t help but utter a small scoff as you shake your head. “I would encourage her to approach the Senate,” she says suddenly as she looks up at you. “I would advise her to seek out the New Republic for support against them. It might help them finally see that war _is_ on the horizon, whether they want to see it or not, and until they have declared it as such, we _cannot_ take the first action.”

            “Otherwise the New Republic will see you as a threat and order you to demilitarize,” you offer, and Leia nods her head solemnly.

            “So you see now, why my hands are tied,” Leia tells you, and you just nod your head sullenly. “As I said, if there is anything that _is_ within my power to help, please let me know.” She pauses for a moment, and her gaze suddenly hardens. “I know I have no right asking this of you, but if you do happen to learn any information about the First Order that’s worth sharing, I would appreciate the intel.”

            “You won’t help me, but you expect me to help you?” you ask as you arch an eyebrow. “The way I see it, considering how much Draboon has already given you, you owe us, and yet you want us to provide you with more?”

            “This is bigger than just your planet,” Leia says calmly. “The First Order has grown out of the seeds of the Empire, and they seek to finish all that Emperor Palpatine started. If you want this galaxy to have a future, any future, you’ll recognize that we are the only ones who currently oppose the First Order and all they’re prepared to do. When the time comes for open war, and it _will_ come, we’re going to need all the information we can get.”

            “I’ll help you,” you tell her, but you can’t help but let your chin drop regardless. “I think the First Order is dangerous, and I do agree that they’re a threat to the galaxy so if I do hear anything of note, I’ll pass it along.”

            “Thank you.” Leia offers you a tight-lipped smile. “I know things look grim now, but there’s still a chance your mother could change her mind. It’s not too late yet.”

            “Yeah, we’ll see,” you reply bitterly as you return that same forced smile. “Good night, Princess Leia.”

            You turn around and leave the room without another glance back. For some reason, your mind wanders to the training that you had with Garrett, when you had felt so in control of your life and your future. It was as uncertain now as it was then, but at least in that moment you felt as though you had some control over your destiny. Now, it seemed, the future was entirely out of your hands, and you were staring down the barrel of a loaded blaster with a trigger that seemed ready to fire at any time. You didn’t know how to cope with that sense of uncertainty, didn’t know how the rest of your future was going to play out, but it seemed the only thing you knew for certain was that you didn’t know who you could trust but yourself.

            You just hoped that would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to get close to your crush when you find out that you're arranged to be married to someone...but does it really count if that person is working with the First Order? I'm drawing a lot off of the Poe Dameron comic for a lot of information about what the relationship was like with Leia, Poe, and the Resistance before TFA...I highly recommend it if you haven't gotten into it yet!! So how will this information change the dynamic between Poe and Reader? Will it push them apart, or will it actually bring them closer together as they find themselves united against a common enemy? Until next week, cheers!!


	8. Chapter 8

            A part of you almost couldn’t believe it had come to this.

            You were sitting in your room, sulking like a petulant child, and as embarrassed as you were about your reaction, a part of you couldn’t let it go. You weren’t being paranoid or overly suspicious; you were very, truly aware of the consequences that would befall you if you happened to return to your home planet. The First Order would surely try to eliminate you, and then once you were out of the way, there would be absolutely nothing stopping them from taking hold of your planet and its resources. As they correctly assumed, you were just one person, and there was nothing you could do. Even if you were the strongest Force-user in the galaxy, a Jedi, like the tales of old, there was absolutely nothing that you would be able to do against the might of the First Order. One person against an army was still just one person, and it seemed no one had the strength to be able to resist them.

            And so you were sitting in your room, still fresh from your shower, which had done nothing to improve your mood. If anything, your damp hair against your back prevented you from lying down, and so you sat up with your back propped up against the fluffed pillows, trying to keep your mind occupied with your datapad. Unfortunately, you just couldn’t bring your mind to focus on anything besides what your mother had told you. Even if you decided to go along with what she had proposed, and it didn’t really seem like you could do otherwise, you didn’t really have much of a future ahead of you. What good would it do to learn how to pilot a ship if they were simply going to execute you as soon as you stepped back on your planet’s surface?

            Suddenly, you hear a small commotion outside the door, and while you pause and set your datapad down on your knees, you can’t help but feel more or less apathetic towards the whole thing. You doubted you had anything to fear from anyone on this base, and even if you did, what was the worst that could happen? Someone would come and cut your life short? Considering your expected lifespan was already considerably reduced, you didn’t think that shaving a few weeks off of your life would make much of a difference. If you had _any_ last requests at all, it was only that you hoped that they would make it at least somewhat painless. If you returned to Draboon, you had a feeling that they might not give you that mercy when they decided they were done with you once and for all.

            You can hear the door creak open but it violently slams shut again, and you lean off the side of the bed to peer around the edge of the doorframe to peek into your living room. “What’s going on out there?” you call, your voice a bit heavier than you mean it to be, and there’s a pause as the door cracks open again.

            “Commander Dameron is here,” Garrett says as his voice floats through the doorway, and you consider this for a moment. You were only wearing a simple nightgown, but as it stood, you didn’t really feel like getting dressed at this moment.

            “I wish to speak to you both,” is your immediate reply, and even though a part of you felt that this was an extremely bad idea, another part of you didn’t care. You wanted to be alone, you wanted to push everyone away, but at the same time, you knew implicitly that you would have nothing to gain if you did. No one could figure out how to help you out of this mess if you didn’t talk to anyone, and what’s more, if you pushed everyone away, no one would want to.

            You wait patiently for Garrett and Poe to make their way into your room, but they seem to take a considerable amount of time in doing so. They both seem nervous about entering your bedroom, even if you were covered underneath the blankets with your knees drawn into your chest. You appreciated that they respected your modesty, but at the same time, you didn’t feel as though you really had much left.

            Regardless, they both shuffle in through the doorway and stand awkwardly at the foot of your bed. “Garrett, can you please pull a chair around for Commander Dameron?” you ask, gesturing to the area to the side of your bed, and Garrett nods his head in a wordless nod as he disappears into the other room for a brief moment. Poe lets out a puff of air that he had apparently been holding between his cheeks, but doesn’t have time to speak before Garrett re-enters the room, placing a chair down at your bedside. Poe sits down and offers Garrett a quick bid of thanks as Garrett turns to go, but you’re not done with him yet.

            “Where did you go yesterday?” you ask him, wrapping your arms a bit tighter around your knees. “I left the room and Leia was there, but you were not. I thought you were guarding the door.” Poe looks like he’s about to speak, but you simply raise a hand to silence him.

            “I was detained and questioned,” Garrett says, his eyes dipping down towards Poe before he glances back in your direction. “Apparently someone has been leaking information to the First Order and I was treated as a suspect.”

            “But they released you?” you ask, raising your eyebrows, and Garrett nods his head solemnly.

            “They have no proof I’ve done anything wrong,” he says promptly, and you just nod your head forward.               

            “You are not to say anything to them without speaking to me first,” you say after a moment. “If they try to question you again, or detain you in some way, don’t entertain them. Just tell them to direct any questions towards me and I’ll handle it from there.”

            “Thank you, Your Highness,” Garrett says firmly, although there’s something in his tone that you can’t quite put his finger on.

            “Okay, that’s all, Garrett,” you say as you dismiss him, suddenly much too tired to keep up formalities with him just now. Garrett simply inclines his head forward in a steep nod as he turns to leave the room, and Poe glances back towards you, the concern evident on his face as he looks you up and down. You can tell that he wants to ask if you’re okay, but you quickly shoot him a look that tells him that is not a question you want to hear from him right now, and so he changes his tactic before the words even leave his mouth.

            “We’re not your enemy, you know.”

            You let out a brief snort as you just shrug and shake your head from side to side, as if this hardly mattered to you. “Does it matter?” you ask, letting your hands drop to your side. “I thought the Resistance would be our allies, but they are not. I thought we were promised protection in exchange for our financial donations, but apparently that is not the case. I thought it was the responsibility of the Resistance to _protect_ those who were suffering at the hands of the First Order, but apparently I was mistaken.”

            “You’re not mistaken,” Poe says as he shakes his head from side to side. “The General _wants_ to help, but she can’t attack the First Order, not yet. Doing so would constitute an act of war and give the First Order reason to engage us first. War will happen-”

            “Leia already gave me this speech.” You cut him off not because you didn’t want to hear what he had to say, but because you didn’t want him to repeat what you already knew. They wouldn’t help you because of rules and regulations and red tape. Sure. You got that. You weren’t happy about it, but at least a small part of you could say that you understood.

            Regardless, Poe seems to sense the gloom that has taken over you as he leans forward a little bit, clearly trying to figure out the best way to cheer you up. “You’ll be happy to know that this has no effect on your flight lessons, though,” he tells you. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll get back up in the air. That’ll help take your mind off things.”

            “No offense, but I don’t see much of a point,” you remark bitterly, and Poe looks visibly taken aback by this. “Come on, you must know what’s going to happen just as well as I do. My mother will force me to marry Kole, and with her claim to the throne officially handed over to me, they might kill her, or they might leave her alone since she no longer has any power. After the First Order has secured their _diplomatic_ hold over my planet, they’ll have no need for me. I’ll either be imprisoned for the rest of my life, or simply executed on the spot.”

            “It could be worse,” Poe offers, and you narrow your eyes at him, your jaw set.

            “Worse?” you muse. “What could be worse? Making my death look like an accident? Because I’m pretty sure that no matter what happens to me, people are still going to suspect something happened to me.”

            “If it helps change your perspective about the situation, I don’t think they’re going to kill you,” Poe offers, and you raise your eyebrows as you sit in impatient silence, waiting for him to explain why. “Well, executing you would just be bad form, especially right away. Like you said, people are fiercely loyal to your family, and if you suddenly met your end, they would never accept a stranger as their new king, and there’s a chance they’d rebel. Considering they’re not trying to take your planet by force, they don’t want to spare the troops, so they’ll keep you alive to prevent an uprising.”

            “Well, that’s good to consider,” you mutter sarcastically under your breath. “I don’t see what kind of a life that could be for me, though. They’d probably just lock me away in one of the cells for the rest of my life, and I’d never get to see another human being for as long as I lived.”

            “Well,” Poe starts before he seemingly bites his tongue and changes his mind. Regardless, he’s already opened his mouth, and you wanted to hear what else he has to say as you beckon for him to continue. “Judging by how far your family line goes back, if the First Order wanted to _keep_ control of Draboon, wouldn’t they want, a, well, you know, heir?”

            You pause for a moment, allowing the full weight of his words to sink in, before you sigh loudly and drop your head back into the pillow. _That_ was something that you honestly hadn’t quite considered before, probably because you simply hadn’t wanted to. But now it was out there, in the open, and you couldn’t help but sigh as you let your head drop forward onto your knees as you let out a small groan.

            “Isn’t there anything I can do to get out of this?” you ask hopelessly. “Please, please tell me there is something that I can do, Poe. I don’t _want_ to marry him, and I don’t think I need to tell you that I’m afraid for my life stepping back on my home planet.”

            “I know,” Poe says softly as he nods his head forward in agreement. “And we wish there was more we could do. We all do.”

            Your shoulders slump in defeat as you again push your forehead into the tops of your knees. “Well, if they do decide to keep me alive, please know that I’ll be rooting for open war and waiting for it to come sooner rather than later. I can only hope that my planet will be the first to be liberated.”

            “I think it could be,” Poe says as the corner of his lips quirk upwards in the semblance of a smile. “After all, I think certain arguments could be made for the appreciable value of Draboon’s resources. As painful as it is to say, you need money to win a war, and with the vast reserves of lapis at your disposal, I think an argument could definitely be made that the liberation of your planet should definitely be a priority.”

            “Yes,” you reply, unable to conceal the bitterness in your voice. “Yes, I am much relieved that my planet’s liberation will be due in part to its strategic value to the Resistance and nothing else.” You can see Poe recoil slightly from your biting comments, and you can’t help but let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

            “No, you’re right,” Poe says, and something in his tone catches your ears as you pick up your head to look at him, really look at him. “You are right, and I don’t like it any better than you do. We’re going to be fighting against the First Order soon, but what good is there in fighting a war if we don’t help people, if we don’t protect those who need our protection? The First Order is a threat to everyone in the galaxy, and if we don’t take the time to help save the individuals caught in harm’s way before the fighting really begins, how can we really say that we’re better than the First Order? If we don’t help our friends now, who is going to be there to support us when the conflict really escalates and we’re all on our own?”

            You pause for a moment, turning his words over in your head. “So you don’t agree with Leia, then? About doing nothing?”

            “I don’t,” Poe replies curtly. “But I have my orders to leave well enough alone, and that’s what I’m going to do, even if I don’t agree with them. But the second she says otherwise, I will do absolutely everything in my power to make sure you’re safe.” You don’t even realize that he’s reached for your hand before it’s between both of his calloused palms, as he raises the backs of your fingers to his lips. His lips are warm and soft, but the kiss is firm, rich with unspoken promise. You want to say it means more to you, it should mean more to you, but right now? Right now you weren’t sure quite how to feel about this or anything you were going through.

            You almost want to chide him, to tell him that he should be doing more, that he should do everything in his power to save you, but you can’t say that, not when you can clearly see the sincerity written across his face. He really wants to be able to do more to help you, but he was clearly not in a position to so openly defy the Resistance Command in order to save your life. In the back of his mind, he honestly didn’t think the First Order could kill you, but he knew they had ways of making you wish that you were dead, and he wanted to prevent you from experiencing that kind of irreparable pain before it was too late.

            “Thank you, Poe,” you say softly, and he forces a smile to his lips as he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before he sets it back down on the bed.

            “Don’t give up hope yet,” he advises, and he puts his hands on both knees as if he’s getting ready to leave. You almost want to tell him to stay, that you felt at least a little better with him beside you, but the words don’t leave your lips. They can’t, and even if Poe senses your unease, he knows better than to comment on it. “There still may be a way out of this, you’ll see. In the meantime, I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow morning for training. Your life ain’t over yet, and I’m not about to let you give up after how much hard work you’ve put into this. I know things look bleak now, but you’re a fighter. You’ll get through this.”

            “Thanks,” you say as you smile up at him, and Poe just dips his head forward in a solemn nod, although there is a light smile playing on his lips all the same.

            “Get some rest,” he advises before he turns and heads out the door, and you let all of the air out of your lungs as you release a deep breath. The door closes behind him about a minute after he leaves, but you don’t have more than a minute to catch your breath before the door opens up again and you hear the unmistakable sounds of someone else entering your apartment. Before you even have time to ask who it is, Garrett appears in the doorway, looking visibly distressed.

            “I know this is breaking protocol,” he says immediately, but you just wave it away. He knew that he wasn’t allowed in your quarters without an invitation, but you could see the concern etched into the fine lines in his face, and you weren’t about to chide him for not following proper decorum now. “But is it true? Is everything that I heard true? Is the Queen truly insisting on your marriage to a member of the First Order?”

            “It seems so,” you reply softly, not meeting his eyes, and you’re almost irritated by Garrett’s sudden gasp of surprise. “Garrett, we both knew that this would be coming sooner or later. We _both_ knew that I would be married off for _someone’s_ political gain, and my mother happens to think that this marriage is auspicious to Draboon’s future.”

            “But the First Order,” Garrett begins before his voice trails off. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, it’s not my place to comment on your affairs.”

            “No, it’s not,” you reply as you shake your head. “But now is not necessarily the time to adhere to proper decorum, either. I can’t possibly describe how delicate this situation is right now, and I think that I’m going to need to heed the advice of others in order to figure out what to do.”

            “Might I ask what you’ve considered?” Garrett offers, and you know he’s just trying to be helpful, but you can’t help but think about what Leia said, about how one of the members of your security detailing could have been a spy for the First Order. That was possible, and maybe one was, but you knew it wasn’t Garrett. It couldn’t be.

            “Honestly, I haven’t really considered doing much of anything,” you admit as you lean back into your pillows, crossing your arms over your chest, half out of frustration, half out of modesty. “The Resistance will not come to my aid on this one, unfortunately. Apparently they’re in no position to make the first move; even though they’re on the precipice of war, it hasn’t formally been declared _yet_ and if they attack the First Order first, the New Republic might demand that they demilitarize and the Resistance, smartly, doesn’t want to have to fight a double battle between the New Republic and the First Order.”

            “What if the First Order attacks first?” Garrett asks, his voice filled with almost childish innocence. “What then? Don’t they have probable cause to come to their own, or someone else’s, defense?”

            “I suppose,” you reply with an idle shrug of your shoulders. “But that doesn’t really seem to matter though, does it? The First Order seems to know this already; that’s why they haven’t already attacked our planet. I’m sure they know that they could easily overpower Draboon’s limited military with their own; however, they don’t want to give the New Republic an excuse. They’ll take over power by _diplomatic_ means, which is easier for all involved, case in point, me.” You pause for a moment as you look up at him. “Although I suppose it’s fair, in a way. Out of the many lives lost, at least mine may spare thousands.”

            “Thousands will die regardless, if the First Order succeeds in taking over our home,” Garrett replies firmly. “We need to do something to stop them.”

            “Believe me, I’ve been going over every possibility in my mind to stop this marriage from happening,” you say as you shake your head from side to side. “But I honestly can’t think of anything. I can’t think of anything to say, I can’t think of anything to do, and apparently the number of people who are in a position to be able to help me can’t do anything about this either.” Garrett pauses for a moment, as if he has an idea, but isn’t quite sure if he should say it. “Out with it, Garrett.”

            “I think, perhaps,” Garrett begins tentatively. “You’re approaching this matter from the wrong perspective.” You adjust yourself under the blankets but raise one eyebrow, appraising him carefully but encouraging him to continue. “Well, right now we don’t have much information to go on. We don’t know who the person you’re supposed to marry is or what he wants, aside from the fact that he’s in with the First Order. Would it be possible, before you went back home, to possibly meet with him, maybe not here, but on a neutral planet?” You lean forward, suddenly intrigued by his idea, as Garrett keeps talking. “Neither side wants to fire first, right? So you can bring some people from the Resistance with you for protection, and he’ll probably have troops of his own. Some people from the Resistance will probably agree to go with you, because some information, any information they can get on the First Order, is better than none, right?” Garrett shuffles uncomfortably, and his eyes are wide as he stares back at you, as if perplexed by your sudden silence.

            “Garrett,” you say quietly. “That sounds like a fantastic idea.”

            “Actually?” Garrett asks, and he looks genuinely dumbfounded that you actually believed that his idea was worth considering.

            “You’re absolutely right,” you concede. “The First Order will want to try to make this marriage look as smooth and diplomatic as possible, so there is no way they would turn down our request, especially if it’s on a neutral planet. And the Resistance will want to find out all they can, and especially if I take a Resistance envoy, they wouldn’t let me go alone.”

            “You won’t be alone,” Garrett says firmly, his face suddenly hardening with his sense of duty. “Considering how dangerous this rendezvous might become, the whole security team will likely be attendance. We are here to protect you, Your Highness, and none of us have any responsibilities that tie us to this base. Wherever you go, the rest of us will assuredly follow.”

            “Thank you, Garrett,” you say as you smile fondly at him. You want to say more, but the wheels in the back of your mind are already starting to turn with ideas. You would have to get word to your mother about this and have her help set up the arrangements, but a part of you almost thought that she would be over Draboon’s moons to hear that you were at least _considering_ this. After all, if you made it seem too easy, you might arouse some unnecessary suspicions about you, and that was something that you wanted to prevent at all costs. Not to mention, there was also the issue of who in the Resistance to get on board with your plan. A part of you wanted to approach Leia about this directly, but you weren’t quite sure she would entertain the idea. If you could have backup from within the Resistance itself, someone who had already volunteered to go with you, then perhaps she would consider it.

            And you had just the person in mind.

            “Thank you, Garrett, that will be all for now,” you say as you lean back into the pillow with a self-satisfied smirk, and Garrett just nods his head as he bids you good night and heads out the door. As you can hear it shut behind him, you rearrange your pillows so that you can lie down comfortably, but you just can’t get to sleep. You were not going to get any rest that night, you were almost sure of it. You were suddenly filled with a giddy sense of excitement. Not only would you perhaps be able to get out of this marriage and save Draboon, but you might also get some answers as to who the First Order was and what they intended to do. You knew they were set upon ruling the galaxy, but beyond that, you weren’t sure what their directives were or how they planned to go about accomplishing them. Any little bit of information that you could get your hands on seemed helpful, mostly for the Resistance, but the more you knew, the better you would be to protect your planet as well.

            The next morning, you awoke with a new sense of confidence, not only in yourself, but in your mission. Garrett was right; the only way you were ever going to feel better about this was to tackle this head on and find the answers that you needed yourself. You couldn’t solve this problem yourself, you weren’t foolish enough to think otherwise, but you knew implicitly that there had to be something you could do, and this was it. It seemed like a win-win situation for everyone, and if you could somehow manage to get Poe on your side, then you had no doubt that he would be able to convince the General that this was what needed to be done.

            That morning, you sat impatiently in your living room as you waited to hear the familiar knock on the door, the habitual sign that Poe was ready to resume your lessons that morning. When the knock finally came you bounded eagerly to your feet, pulling the door open with a sense of enthusiasm that seemed to startle him. You had momentarily forgotten that you had been in poor spirits when he had seen you last, and you quickly pull the triumphant smirk off your face as you face him, letting your expression harden somewhat. You were the princess of Draboon, soon to be Queen if the First Order had their way, and you knew for a fact that queens of any planet did not allow themselves to be overcome by their feelings of giddy excitement.

            “Commander Dameron,” you say quickly, your voice holding steady as you take a step back and gesture inside the room. “A word?”

            Poe just nods his head forward as he steps inside, and you quickly close the door behind him, hesitating with your hand still on the knob for a moment before you turn around to face him. “Are you doing okay?” Poe asks quickly, although his voice sounds almost suspicious, as if he suspected that you had already done something. “You seem, I don’t know, excited.”

            “I am,” you reply curtly, that triumphant smirk once again taking hold of your features without your conscious awareness of it. “I think the simplest explanation is probably the best approach here, so I’m just going to go ahead and say it. I want you to help me meet my new husband.”

            Poe’s mouth drops open for a moment, as if he’s completely at a loss for what to say. You wait patiently for him to recover himself, your features overtaken with genuine sincerity. “I don’t understand.” You can’t help but let out a small laugh at his words, and you dip your head forward as you try to think of how to properly explain yourself.

            “Later today, I am going to reach out to my mother,” you tell him. “I’m going to ask her to initiate a meeting between me and my betrothed on a neutral planet. If the First Order is intent on making this… _alliance_ seem as diplomatic as possible, they’ll show up, and considering I’m here and you’re still trying to learn as much as you can about them, it makes sense for you to show up too, especially if I take one of your ships.”

            Poe opens his mouth and shuts it again, but now he looks deep in thought as he crosses his arms over his chest, as if he’s actually considering this. “It could be dangerous,” he tells you, as if this is something you don’t already know. “They may insist on taking you back with them, and I don’t know how much of a position we’d be in to stop them.”

            “You don’t have to be,” you reply with a quick shake of your head. “As of right now, the First Order has no hold on me or my planet or my _people_. I will have my own team with me. If they try anything, I have people there to defend me. _My_ people. Not yours. If I tell them I’m not going with them, I’m not going.”

            Poe seems to consider this a moment more as he meets your eyes, taking the time to think this over. “It seems you’re set on this,” he notices, but you merely shrug your shoulders.

            “If this plan is to work, I need you on board with this,” you explain. “Because you’re going to have to be the one to help me convince Leia that this is actually a good idea. I don’t want to ask this of you, I really don’t, but I know how badly you want to stop the First Order, and this seems like a good opportunity to collect some valuable intel, especially if they don’t know you’re coming. They might assume, but they won’t know for sure.”

            “This isn’t just about the First Order,” Poe replies with a quick shake of his head. “This is about helping out a friend, and that’s what you are, a friend. Your planet donated a lot to the Resistance, and we’re appreciative of everything you’ve done. That’s a debt that we need to repay, and-”

            “If we’re friends, then you don’t owe me any restitution,” you say firmly. There’s an edge to your words, one that Poe can pick up on immediately, and a look passes between you as the room descends into a tense silence. There’s words that you both want to say, but neither of you can say them; there was too much the galaxy demanded of both of you, and so much as even considering contemplating them could throw everything into disharmony, and that was something that you could not afford to risk right now. You needed Poe on your side, you needed his experience and his boldness, and something else, some distinctive quality that seemed unique to him and him alone.

            “You’re right,” he says at length. “This isn’t about restitution, and this isn’t about the First Order. You need help, and I want to help you. If our positions were reversed and I was the one being threatened, I know that you would do anything in your power to help me. And maybe one day I’ll be in that position and you’ll be able to return that favor, but not if we don’t act now.” He takes a few steps towards you, and you can’t help but swallow the lump in your chest as you look back up at him, suddenly feeling as though all the air was being sucked out of your cheeks. “You know that we can’t make the first move, but if the First Order starts something, then we’d have no choice to return fire.”

            “I don’t want to put you in any danger,” you say softly, although you’re suddenly not sure whether you mean just him, or if you were referring to the collective Resistance with a single pronoun.

            “We’re in danger all the time,” Poe replies, the corner of his upper lip quirking up into a smile. “And we’re still here, aren’t we?”

            You want to tease him. You want to tell him that maybe he’s just lucky, or maybe the Force is on your side, but for some reason, you can’t say the words. Saying them would only undermine the actual amount of skill you knew that he had, that his entire squadron had, and you couldn’t bring yourself to downplay the role that they had played in what the Resistance had done so far, from their dangerous reconnaissance missions to their various rendezvous’ with less than scrupulous characters in order to discover just what the First Order had been planning. They had risked their own lives time and time again to gather enough intel so that they could be able to counter the First Order when it mattered, when the fighting started, and this was just another mission to them. Only this time, you were caught in the crossfire, and that was a place that you had no intention of being in.

            “You are,” you confirm with a slight nod of your head. “And I’m not going to ask you to guarantee my safety, because I know that’s something you can’t do, but-”

            “Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Poe says firmly as he places both hands directly on your shoulders. “We’re not going to let you out of our sight. The initial agreement was for eight weeks, and we’re not going to let them take you back any sooner than you want to.”

            You can’t help but snort gently through your nose as you look up at him, your eyes burning into his. “Sometimes I almost wish I could stay here indefinitely,” you tell him softly, and it doesn’t take you more than a moment to realize that it’s the wrong thing to say. Poe’s eyebrows knit together in a combination of confusion and surprise before he quickly takes his hands off of you and steps backwards, and you open your mouth to say something, anything, to negate his reaction, but no words come out.

            “You’re always welcome to visit here,” Poe says quickly, but you can tell there’s something else on his mind, something else that he’s not saying. “Anyway, we should probably get to the hangar and start your lesson for today. I know with everything that’s been going on that you probably haven’t been as focused as you were before, but we’ll push through.”

            “Hey, I’ve still been studying,” you say indignantly as you swat at his arm lightly. You both head out of your room and down towards the hallway that led to the outdoor hangar. You smile up at him, trying to draw from your previous enthusiasm, but it’s suddenly gone now. In its place was a creeping sense of numbness. 

            Poe said you were always welcome to visit, but you knew what that meant. How many times had delegates offered for you and your mother to come visit their home planet? It was simply something you said out of decorum, but it was about as far from sincere as it could possibly be. You thought that you and Poe had been getting along well, or better than well, but had you been misreading him? Perhaps the events of late had changed things for him, or perhaps he had just been friendly and hospitable due to Leia’s orders, despite the truth that he didn’t really care less about you.     

            You try to dispel the notion, but Poe’s words had planted a seed that was starting to grow in your mind. As these thoughts grow, you find that you’re standing outside the shuttle and you weren’t quite sure why. The reading had to do with emergency preparedness and how to prioritize critical systems as a last resort in dire circumstances, and that wasn’t the kind of thing one tried to test for real.

            “So are we actually going to do something today? I figured the reading assignment wasn’t something you _actually_ tested.”

            Poe turns and seems to evaluate you. This sarcasm wasn’t like you, and he knew it. After a long pause, he replies, “Yeah, it’s not the kind of thing one tests on a regular basis. Practical exams on critical emergency procedures aren’t exactly allowed, since you have to actually destroy critical equipment for it to work, and, well.”

            Poe at a loss for words. That was new. He gestures in the air before continuing. “The only pilots who really benefit from _that_ practical are deep-space pilots in training for hyperspace trailblazing. This is a bit simpler: we’re doing an inventory of the shuttle’s emergency equipment.”

            _That was it?_ Something seemed off. So you were both going to dance around the obvious. Fine. At least you knew you could quickly inventory the shuttle after last night’s reading, since you had used or seen all of the items but one in the asteroid practical. You take the datapad from Poe, finding and checking the items off quickly on the datapad until the only one left was an elements kit. According to the datapad, it contained a reflective sleeping bag, weather shelter, solar reflector and chemical heater. Given that it seemed important, you doubted that the kit would be kept somewhere easily damaged, so you began looking around the center of the shuttle and find it in the ceiling.

            You wordlessly open the box and lay out its contents on one of the side benches, paying careful attention to the folds of the tent-like shelter, reflector and sleeping bag, checking them over for any rips and tears before marking them off on the datapad. You see a large warning affixed to the lantern-shaped chemical heater, and note that it would probably be a very bad idea to test the heater chemicals inside the shuttle due to the large words _Explosion Hazard_ written on the label. You pull up the testing directions for the heater on the datapad and find the small tabs described, carefully removing extremely small amounts of the two chemicals within and slowly walking down the ramp to test them outside.

            You look around to make sure no one was standing nearby or was headed toward you before calling out “Flash! Clear!” like you had seen other mechanics do earlier. You shut your eyes and slowly touch the two tabs of chemicals together, noting a bright flash of light through your eyelids and a gentle wave of heat on your face. You look up and you’re momentarily surprised that Poe wasn’t outside with you. You take a moment to glance around before you spot him watching through the shuttle cockpit windows.

            If he was going to watch, you would make it obvious that you knew what you were doing. You make a point of wearily trudging back up the shuttle ramp before replacing the tabs in the heater and checking it off as the last thing, then proceed to slowly refold the shelter and reflector, making sure to properly stow them so that they couldn’t be torn when they were next taken out. As you pick up the sleeping bag, you suddenly come to the realization that, should you choose to do so, this shuttle had everything you needed if you wanted to run away from here. You let this knowledge soak in as you continue folding and rolling the sleeping bag, carefully stowing it and replacing the lid of the kit. The kit was heavy coming down, and even heavier going back up into the ceiling, but it suddenly seems lighter as you snap it into place. You quickly realize why when you turn to see Poe giving you a hand.

            “I can get it myself. Isn’t that the point? To do it alone?”

            Poe looks wounded at this, and you stop to consider that maybe you were just a little too harsh? “I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

            “Sure. It’s probably the last time I’ll do it anyway, since it’s not likely I’ll need to use it now or on any of my visits in the future.”

            You could see Poe _finally_ get it. He thinks something over for a moment, and you think he’s going to apologize, but he does no such thing as he speaks into his comlink instead.

            “BB-8? It’s time. Bring her around.”

            You hear BB-8 give a series of beeps in response over the comlink and Poe’s eyes narrow at whatever it was BB-8 just said. “We’ll discuss that _later_. I’ll see you in two.”

            By this time, you knew not to even bother asking. You were just going to have to learn Binary. “Where are we going?”

            Poe just motions outside with a nod of his head in response. You just follow him wordlessly out the large door that led to Starfighter Alley. Outside, there’s just the rows of starfighters and scattered groups of mechanics. You had a suspicion of what was in store, but held off asking questions until you could see for yourself. Poe _did_ say two minutes. As you mentally count out the seconds, you hear a low whine approaching that seems to be steadily rising to a roar.

            It’s the unmistakable sound of an X-Wing approaching at high speed.

            Finally, you see it appear over the top of a nearby tree and pull high into a loop over Starfighter Alley. Around you, mechanics have stopped what they’re doing to watch this impromptu demonstration. At the top of the loop, the X-Wing flips right-side-up, releases what looks like two red flares, and starts into a lazy circling dive toward the landing zone below. A few hundred meters from the ground, the fighter finally slows to a stop directly overhead and begins a slow descent toward you and Poe. Finally, the top of the fighter comes into view and BB-8’s head turns in your direction, giving you a series of whistles you now understood to mean, “Hi!”

            As the X-Wing slowly settles to the pavement, BB-8 pops out underneath the X-Wing and goes wheeling quickly into the hangar, likely to fetch a ladder for the high cockpit. You look over the X-Wing, noting the stock white paint scheme, and the few unique blue accents found on certain corners of the wings before you spot it. Directly under the cockpit seal is a sigil. Your personal thunderbird sigil, followed by the words _Iris One._ You can’t quite believe it, and you circle the X-Wing, looking it over very carefully now, noting the consistency of the paint design all around. As you come back around to the other side, you see BB-8 has come back with the ladder, so you climb up to the cockpit and find a starfighter pilot’s helmet and flight suit on the seat, shifted about by BB-8’s aerobatics. You pick them up and look at them, noting that both are inscribed with your name, and underneath it, _Iris Leader_.

            You turn back to look at Poe. “I don’t understand. Is this a gift from Leia? Because my mother would never have paid for this. You know where she stands on these lessons.”

            Poe just looks over the X-Wing one more time before answering you.

            “It was always my plan to at least teach you to fly an RZ-1 before you left. Draboon was in the process of upgrading its Z-95’s, but your mother’s security minister secretly insisted on the additional purchase of a squadron of refurbished T-70 X-Wings as part of the agreement with Draboon. He had a feeling that Draboon would need much more than interceptors to ensure its security given how close Mandalorian Legacy space is to recent First Order raids. Since Draboon does not have an easy path for arms purchasing due to the Republic restrictions, a back-channel purchase by proxy was part of the deal, facilitated by the General.”

            “In his requisition note, the security minister strongly hinted that he relished the idea of actively flying with Draboon’s next queen instead of just providing escort, though he obviously could not explicitly say as much in an official document. A standard squadron is twelve starfighters, but the order was for thirteen, and it was made clear that this was a one-to-one order, not a backup. Thirteen starfighters for thirteen pilots. L’ulo read between the lines, and we changed the lesson plans to get you to the point that you could fly an X-Wing.”

            There’s stunned silence. You had no idea. BB-8 breaks the silence with excited whistling and when Poe doesn’t respond, he begins bumping into the side of his leg to get his attention. This seems to snap Poe out of whatever he was thinking about and he looks back up at you. Since BB-8 is looking at you expectantly, whatever it was, it was meant for you.

            “He wants to know if he got the sigil right. He copied the rest of the paint job from the security fighters that escorted us in when we visited Draboon.”      

            “It’s perfect.” You open up and shut your mouth as if you want to say more, but the words don’t come. You felt like Poe had just rejected you, but this? This was completely unexpected, and it sent you tumbling down a rabbit hole of emotions that you weren’t sure you knew how to climb out of.

            “She’s not completely ready to fly yet; there’s still a lot of work to do before I’m confident she’ll protect you in combat. In the meantime though, climb in. Get a feel for it.”

            “In combat?” you echo. “Do you think my mother would _ever_ approve of that?”

            “No,” Poe answers with a mischievous grin before his expression suddenly turns serious. “No, but this way, if you ever need to escape the planet under duress due to a First Order invasion, I’m sure you can protect yourself while you try to escape.”

            “Right.” Honestly, that wasn’t something that you really wanted to think about as you carefully step into the cockpit and sit down, instantly noticing that the controls were different from the shuttle’s. As you take them in your hands to get a feel for them, Poe climbs the ladder to watch. You want to think of something to ask him to break the silence between you, but it’s Poe who speaks first.

            “I’m sorry if I upset you with what I said before,” Poe begins softly. “I didn’t mean it that way, although I can understand how you interpreted it, and that’s my fault. I wasn’t saying that we don’t want you to stay, only that this is a _temporary_ military installation. We’re fighting a war, and it’s dangerous here. We may stay on D’Qar for a while, but there also may be a time when we move our operations elsewhere. I just don’t want you getting attached to this place when I don’t know if it’ll still be standing in a few years from now.”

            You sigh as you shake your head. “No, that’s my fault. It was a stupid thing to say, and a stupid thing to get mad at you over. I’m, I don’t like to think of it this way, but I’m privileged, being here, learning how to fly, just for my own ambitions. Your time is a valuable resource, and you’re not using it to train new recruits or scout the First Order or visit other neutral planets like Draboon. You’re spending it on _me_ , and-”

            “Because I want to.” The sincerity is written all over Poe’s features, and you can feel your heart beating uncomfortably in your chest. “True, that might have been one of the negotiated terms, but I do like spending time with you. It would be great if you could join us, join the Resistance, but that’s not your place. You’re going to be Queen of an entire system some day, and that’s not something that you can just turn your back on for us.”

            “I don’t know.” You let your shoulders rise and fall uncomfortably. “Maybe it’s because I haven’t really stepped into the role yet to know what’s required of me, but I almost think that what you’re doing here is more...I don’t know? Worthwhile? Important? Like I’m just protecting my planet, maintaining the status quo, but you’re risking your life fighting a war so that people on planets like mine can go about their lives. It’s like you’re sacrificing your chance to live your life so everyone else can live theirs.”

            Poe’s staring at you with an expression you’re not quite sure you’ve seen from him before. “Wow,” he says appreciatively as he gnaws on his lower lip. “Is that really how you see me?”

            “I-” Suddenly a part of you wants to take it back, but you can’t. Now the words were hanging in the delicate space between you, and you just look away in a vain attempt to conceal your embarrassment.  

            “The same could be said of you,” Poe offers suddenly. “Being Queen? That’s your destiny, your birthright. You couldn’t come join us in the Resistance even if you wanted to, at least not officially, because governing Draboon is your responsibility. It was my _choice_ to join the Resistance, but tell me, if you had a choice between being Queen or not, what would you do?”

            Suddenly the image of sitting before L’ulo with the glowing stone trapped between your fingers floats back into your mind. You can feel your heartbeat quicken as you shake your head, choosing to avoid the question altogether. “No use dwelling on hypotheticals,” you say with a light shrug of your shoulders. “I’m going to be Queen of Draboon, and you’re going to keep fighting with the Resistance.”

            “Right,” Poe says with a nod of his head, as if he wasn’t even bothered by your obvious deflection. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t live in the meantime. I mean, right here, right now, what are we doing? We’re living, aren’t we?”

            “I guess so,” you reply as you smile up at him. You can feel something else in your chest now, something alongside your beating heart. It feels like a cool breeze has suddenly swept through your ribcage, driving up through your stomach as it makes you almost dizzy. For a moment you want to reach out to make sure Poe was really there in front of you, that you were really having this conversation with him, but you resist the urge.

            “You do know you’re sitting in an X-Wing, right? _Your_ X-Wing? You could always join the fight on your own terms once you’re Queen. Draboon _is_ near the edges of First Order space, so as much as I want to see you safe, you’ll be on the front lines one way or another, whether here or there.”

            You look about the cockpit, pondering his idea. He had a point, but the truth was, this conversation had opened up a much bigger question. Did you even really want to be Queen of Draboon? You were having doubts. It was a role that you had been groomed for, but not one that you were yet prepared to play. And now it was seemingly being thrust upon you whether you wanted it or not. Maybe that was why you had really come out here. True, maybe you did relish the freedom of flying, but maybe you had wanted this simply because you wanted to see what it was like to live a different life.

            And, as dangerous as it was, you almost felt like you could belong here. You wanted to fight with them. You wanted to contribute. You could still do that from Draboon, in fact, you’d probably be in a better position to assist them as queen of an entire planet, at the head of its forces and with the full support of your Council. Still, some part of you couldn’t help but consider that maybe that’s not what you wanted. Maybe you wanted to be on the front lines, your palms slick with machine oil and your clothes covered in sweat from a hard day’s labor, worried only about what tomorrow would bring.

            Maybe the grass was always greener. Or maybe you were just pining for a life, any kind of life, that you could share with Poe Dameron. You would never voice that thought aloud, of course, but a small part of you couldn’t help but consider that maybe, just maybe, it was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Reader spends some more time helping out Jess with her X-Wing, and her, Leia, and Poe have another conversation about what they can do concerning her position with the First Order, if anything. And our ship is starting to pick up speed, but how long until it sets sail? Until next week, cheers!!


	9. Chapter 9

            “Rumor has it that Poe has a thing for the princess,” Jess teases as she looks up at you. Black fuel is staining her beige overalls, and you can’t help but notice a large black smudge along her forehead that keeps getting pushed further and further up to her hairline every time she moves to brush her bangs out of her face. Each and every time she does it, you want to comment on it, want to tell her that she has grease on her face, but a part of you think she already knows. The other part of you knows she wouldn’t care regardless.

            “Oh, is there another princess on base I don’t know about?” you ask as you quirk up an eyebrow, and Jess turns to look at you, as if this was the most interesting thing that you’ve said in all the time that she had known you. From over her shoulder, you can see Garrett and three of the other guards all at various spots around the perimeter of her X-Wing, but neither of them are close enough to hear your conversation, especially not over the din of trial runs being flown overhead. The Resistance had finally gotten in a new shipment of parts, and so most of the mechanics and pilots were out under D’Qar’s bright blue sky, working to fix up their ships in the relative safety of their outdoor hangar. You were sitting on one of the rungs of a descending ladder hanging off the side of Jess’ X-Wing, both hands braced around the cool metal while you absent-mindedly kicked your feet into the air as you hovered about three to four feet off the ground.

            “That’s bold,” Jess says after a moment as she appears to think this over. “I don’t think it’d be a good idea for anyone else to hear you say that, though.”

            “That’s why no one else is around to hear it,” you reply with a lame shrug of your shoulders. “And besides, I was only teasing. I’m pretty sure the entire base knows about my engagement, somehow.”

            “Word travels fast on a military base,” Jess replies as she turns back to her work. “Someone says something, someone else overhears something, and suddenly there are fifty rumors running around, all with a different variation of the truth sewn into them.”

            “So what about this rumor about Poe?” you ask skeptically. Part of you wants to cross your arms over your chest, but if you do that, you run the risk of slipping off the ladder, and so you stay put. However, that doesn’t stop you from drawing your knees into your chest slightly, placing your feet squarely on the rung directly beneath you.

            “Well, you two _do_ spend a lot of time together,” Jess notes. “And you’re always happy to see him. Big smiles all around, that sort of thing.”

            “He’s a friend,” you reply, a little more forcibly than you mean to, but Jess simply shrugs this off, her shoulders moving up and down in a careless fashion.

            “Don’t have to convince me of anything,” Jess tells you. “I _know_ there’s nothing going on between you.”

            “Oh?” you ask, and for some reason, you feel oddly nervous. Your stomach feels as though someone is suddenly pinching it between two fingers, and you can’t get a good handle on just what it is that’s making you feel this way. “And how do you know that?”

            “Because Poe wouldn’t,” Jess replies with a shake of her head. She leans back slightly to look at you again, wiping her bangs off her forehead again with the back of her wrist. “Not just because you’re engaged, because I’m pretty sure none of us see it that way, but because you’re a mission now. You can help us get information out of the First Order, and I don’t think I need to tell you that Draboon could make an incredible ally. There’s a risk that that alliance could go south if your relations worsen with _anyone_ here, and so he knows better than to take that risk.”

            You’re silent for a moment as the truth of her words sinks in, and they play back through your mind as if on a loop. Jess looks up slightly, her eyebrows knotted together as if she’s concerned that she’s offended you, and you quickly think of something, anything, to say to her. “I think you’re overthinking it,” you reply with a light laugh, and Jess’ face immediately relaxes. “Besides, you said that the rumors were that Poe has a thing for the princess, not that he was thinking about acting on them.”

            “That’s fair,” Jess points out. “The rumors also never said if the princess feels anything for him in return.”

            “Ah,” you reply with a quick nod of your head, as you can’t think of a safe way to respond to this comment.

            “And does she?” Jess asks teasingly as she raises an eyebrow, and you roll your eyes and scoff in an attempt to hide your flushed cheeks.

            “If you hear any rumors, they’re not going to come from me,” you reply curtly, although the corner of your lip quirks up into a smile nonetheless. You’re concerned that it might betray you, but Jess just smiles as she goes back to the parts that she’s working on. You almost feel as though she’s reading between the lines of your comment, but, fortunately or unfortunately, you don’t have time to ask her about it.

            “Hey girls,” Poe says as he walks over, and you’re glad you’re clutching onto the ladder for support. You had enough time to see him coming, but even still, the fact that you had just been talking about him almost makes you think his ears are burning. From over his shoulder, you can see one of your guards say something to Garrett and the other guard beside him, and they look like they’re sharing a laugh as they look over in your direction, but more specifically, at Poe himself. For a moment you consider that perhaps the circulating rumors about you and Poe were not limited simply to the Resistance personnel, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. “How’s it going? You teaching her a thing or two about how the strike foils work together, Jess?”

            “Just a few things,” Jess replies with a wink in your direction. “I haven’t had any luck with the astromechs since Rabby, so I think she was just about ready to come give me a hand with the targeting servos.” You’re about to protest, about to tell her that you don’t know the first thing about targeting computers or weapon tuning yet and it was probably going to result in something becoming irreparably broken, when Poe steps in and comes to your aid.

            “That will have to wait for another time, Jess,” Poe says, his voice suddenly turning serious as he turns away from her to gaze pointedly in your direction. “The General wants a word.” Jess glances from him to you, but it’s quite clear what this is about, even without saying. Even still, it’s more than clear to everyone that this is not something that you should be discussing, especially not a place as open and as public as the Resistance’s outdoor hangar, where D’Qar’s gentle breeze could easily blow your words into unsavory ears.

            “Good luck,” Jess offers as she stands up to face you, and you just nod as Poe helps you down from the ladder, putting both hands on your waist to guide you as you hopped down. From behind Poe, you can see Jess raise an eyebrow, and it’s all you can do to conceal your blush as you offer Poe a quick bid of thanks for his assistance. Even still, you can see your guards making their way towards you, and you wait patiently for them to join you before you proceed into the base.

            Poe is uncharacteristically taciturn as you walk into a new area of the base, one that you weren’t all that familiar with, and yet, that wasn’t your most pressing concern at the moment. You knew it should have been, you knew you should have been more inquisitive as to where exactly Poe was leading you, but it was suddenly no longer at the forefront of your mind. “So what’s wrong?”

            “What?” Poe asks as he turns around to face you a little too quickly. It’s obvious that he’s distracted by something, and you can’t help but roll your shoulders uncomfortably as you gesture into the space between you.

            “You’re being quiet,” you say after a moment, trying to figure out the right word to use to describe his behavior. “It seems, I don’t know, unlike you.”

            Poe only lets a small murmur of agreement escape his lips, and, oddly enough, this almost concerns you more than his silence.

            “Did something happen?” you press, but Poe just walks beside you, not saying anything. “Did I do something? Did I do something wrong?”

            “What? No,” Poe says with a quick shake of his head. “Sorry, I’m letting my mind wander. We need to focus.”

            You want to ask him just where his mind is going, but you don’t want to say anything that might upset him either, and so you resolve to just focus on the matter at hand and let Poe tell you what is wrong when he feels ready to. “You’re right,” you say with a quick nod of your head. “So what did Leia say? Is she as on board with this plan as we are?”

            “I think you know the answer to that,” Poe says evenly as you continue walking, and you can’t help but tilt your head to the side in confusion as you walk. Poe was being downright guarded with you, and to be honest, you really didn’t have a clue why. Was it because of the rumors about you that had apparently been swirling around base? He of all people had to know that there was no truth to them, although perhaps not _everyone_ knew that. Perhaps a few, even a select few, were making life uncomfortable for him, and he was limiting his connection to you as a result.

            “Look, Poe-”

            “We’re here,” he says suddenly as he stops and turns around to face you. He gnaws on his lower lip for a moment as he looks you over, as if he wants to say something more, but apparently decides against it as he pushes the door open. Inside, you can see all manners of consoles lining the walls. The room itself is pretty much devoid of all furniture except for a few extraneous tables here and there that are lined with mechanical parts of all shapes and sizes. You turn to the consoles to try to get a sense for what information was being displayed, but it looked to be all numbers and coded messages to you. In the back of your mind, you considered that these might be coordinates, but you didn’t know to where and you doubted that anyone would tell you if you asked.

            Leia is standing in the room with her back to you as she continues to stare at one of the consoles, as if being able to read something in the small white text that you can’t quite discern. “Poe told me what you plan to do,” Leia starts, completely glossing over any preamble, and Poe glances nervously back at you, as if to see your reaction. Regardless, you make sure to keep your face even, impassive, waiting to hear her out. “It’s a risky plan.”

            “I know it is,” you reply, keeping your voice level. “But right now it seems that my options are few and far between, and this seems to be the best course of action that provides the most amount of mutual benefit. I find out more about this arrangement and figure out what exactly the First Order wants with my planet, and you get to learn more information about the First Order’s goals and what they’re trying to accomplish so you know how to circumvent them. It’s a win-win situation.”

            “There is no winning situation where the First Order is involved,” Leia says gravely as she turns around to face you. “Before I entertain this idea anymore, I need to know if there are any personal interests that could get in the way of this task.”

            “General,” Poe says abruptly, and if you’re not mistaken, he sounds more than just alarmed. He sounds embarrassed, but mostly for you, as though Leia was questioning your honor with the implication.

            “I need to know,” Leia says firmly as she looks at Poe, before her eyes travel back to you, and you harden your resolve as you decide it’s better to feign ignorance.

            “Personal interests?” you echo as you shake your head from side to side. “I don’t know what you mean. The First Order wants to take over my planet, I think that’s personal enough for me to want to get involved.”

            “No,” Leia replies with a quick shake of her head. “Rumors have reached my ears that you have been… _involved_ with Commander Dameron.” Poe makes a small noise of discomfort as he physically turns his shoulders away from both of you. “And I need to know if that’s true.”

            They both seem so downright serious about this that you can’t help but let out a small snort of amusement as the corner of your lips quirk upwards into an involuntary grin. “I’m sorry, but really?” you ask as you shake your head from side to side. “As if I don’t have enough to worry about right now. My relationship with Commander Dameron has been nothing but strictly professional from the moment that I’ve met him, and there hasn’t been any sort of inappropriate contact or anything of that nature that would indicate otherwise.” You turn slightly towards Poe before you turn back to Leia. “And I believe his embarrassment on my behalf is only proof of this, although, to be fair, I think I retain the right to be insulted on his behalf. He’s the Commander of one of your most vital asset in this war; I would think you would trust him not to let personal sentiments get in the way of what you’re trying to accomplish.”

            “It’s true we’re going to be fighting a war,” Leia admits. “But regardless of common practice, I’m not against my commanders forming relationships with others, so long as it doesn’t prove a hindrance to the mission.”

            “True, but I’m not a part of your Resistance,” you reply firmly. “I’m here as part of a diplomatic envoy to ensure positive relations between my planet and what you’re trying to accomplish here. I am here as a representative of my planet and your guest, and getting involved with anyone here would be incredibly bad form.”

            “It’s not my place to judge,” Leia says dismissively. “I’ve heard the rumors and it’s not my place to say either way, but I need to know before I send him on this mission. I need to make sure he can be objective when it comes to you.” She narrows her eyes at you, and for a moment, you almost think she can see right through you. “Do you think he can remain objective?”

            Poe is literally standing right there, staring at a spot on the wall just past Leia’s head as if he wished he wasn’t actually there, and you decide to put him out of his misery once and for all. “I think you should have more faith in your Commander,” you say bluntly. “Despite what you may have heard, Commander Dameron and I have a working, professional relationship that is not influenced by any underlying…” You wave your hand desperately in the air as you search for the right words to say. “-feelings, or anything of that nature.”

            “Good,” Leia says succinctly as she leans back slightly, and if you’re not mistaken, the self-satisfied smirk that she’s wearing confirms that she had wanted you to confirm what she had already thought. She _knew_ there was nothing going on between you and Poe, so why was she so insistent on making you saying it aloud? Was there something going on that you didn’t know about, something directly involving Poe? Had he said something? For a moment, you let yourself consider that maybe the rumors that Poe felt something for you hadn’t come out of nowhere. Perhaps it was even a comment that was taken out of context, but either way, what you had told Leia was the truth. As far as the relationship between you and Poe was concerned, there was no relationship, end of story.

            “Now that that’s out of the way,” Leia says, pulling up a few screens. “I’ve already spoken with Queen Lyri and she’s agreed to help set up a meeting of sorts. I thought it was best if the meeting was arranged on Bothawui; it’s in the dead center of Bothan Space in the Mid Rim. Because so many spies from both the Empire and the Alliance gathered there during the Galactic Civil War, it was regarded as a neutral territory, and that’s the way it seems to have remained.”

            “Wait, you spoke to my mother about this?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “Under whose authority?” Leia stops as she turns to look at you, placing her hands on both hips as she raises one eyebrow. Even Poe seems to come back to himself as he turns to look at you, as if that was the wrong thing to say. “Believe me, I get that this is your Resistance, but this was my plan. I’m the bait; shouldn’t I have reached out to my mother about this?”

            “No, you shouldn’t have,” Leia says with a firm shake of her head, and you simply stare in her direction as you wait for her to explain. “Because for all intents and purposes, this was _not_ your idea. Do you think that your mother would seriously believe that you would suddenly come around and accept the arrangement overnight? At least this way, volunteering to help set up this meeting, from one mother to the next, should be enough to draw in just the kind of prey we’re hoping to catch.”

            “So you think they would have smelled a trap if I asked to set up the meeting?” you clarify, and Leia just nods her head succinctly in response. To be honest, you could see that she had a point. When your mother had told you that you were engaged to a member of the First Order, you were resolutely set against that ever happening. If you were to suddenly change your mind over the course of a few days, they would think someone in the Resistance was pulling your strings. At least with Leia being direct in orchestrating the meeting, the First Order couldn’t possibly know what to expect from such a deliberate, transparent move.

            To be honest, it was pretty fucking smart, but there was only one problem with that. “If this meeting is to happen, I want to be kept in the loop,” you tell her firmly. “It’s my life on the line, and I want to know what happens. As long as it has to do with me, I want to know who you’re talking to, I want to know when, and I want to know why.”

            You expect Leia to brush you off by citing some measure of confidentiality, but instead she does no such thing. “That’s a fair request,” she says simply, and Poe looks just as surprised as you feel. “Poe, I’ve giving you the company of six of the Elite Guard for the rendezvous, and I’m going to need you to pick one of your pilots to help you co-pilot the escort shuttle.”

            “You don’t want me taking my X-Wing?” Poe asks, and Leia only shakes her head.

            “Bringing that will only make it look like we want to escalate things,” Leia says firmly. “What we want is information. We can make a good guess as to why they want Draboon, but that’s all they are, guesses, and considering how fast they agreed to this meeting, I’m guessing they want something pretty badly.”

            They both turn to you expectantly, but you just stand there as you glance between them uncertainly. They didn’t want you, you knew that for sure, but if Leia thought you were hiding some secret of your planet, then she was unfortunately mistaken. If there was some important secret about Draboon, then you didn’t know what it was, or how you could possibly be of any assistance to them. “Aside from our stores of lapis and the miniscule amount of available beskar, I can’t think of one thing that we have that they would want that badly,” you say, tilting your head to the side as you think, really think, about why the First Order may have targeted Draboon. “We do have a pretty commanding presence over the trade routes, so it’s possible that they are looking to be able to manipulate that to their own advantage as well.”

            “Oh, it’s more than possible,” Leia says with a firm nod of her head. “The First Order has been using underground cartels as a means of smuggling supplies for years, and Draboon would be a perfect backdoor waystation. Gaining a hold of Draboon’s trade routes would put them in an ideal position to make sure that nothing came in and out of Mandalorian Space without their knowledge. It’s not just what’s in your planet that makes it a valuable asset, but its location as well.”

            You purse your lips as you raise your eyebrows petulantly and considered this new bit of information. If what she was saying was true, and there were no doubts in your mind that it was, the First Order must have been targeting Draboon for a while. If that was the case, it was only your auspicious fortune that Poe had arrived when he did so that you could make your arrangements to travel to D’Qar. If he hadn’t shown up, or if the Resistance had waited to request aid, then you probably would have been married to the enigmatic Kole Praxton by now. Either that, or they would have already deemed you of no further value to them and taken your life.

            The thought that you could have already been dead by now if the Resistance hadn’t intervened sends a cold shiver running up the length of your spine, and you can’t help but let your shoulders shake a little bit, as you had involuntarily caught a chill. You’re hoping that Leia doesn’t notice, lest she mistake such an impulse as weakness, but to her credit, the expression of her face relaxes somewhat as her features soften. “I know this isn’t easy for you,” she says softly, and her tone is enough to make even Poe glance back towards you, silently looking you over to make sure you were all right. “We’re confronting the First Order head on. It’s as foolish as it is brave, but right now it doesn’t appear that we have many other options.”

            “I’m not afraid,” you say firmly as you cross your arms resolutely over your chest. Leia simply raises an eyebrow as if she sees right through you, but you stand firm. “As the Force would have it, I’m here for a reason. If you hadn’t sent word to my mother for aid, I would not be standing here and it’s possible that my life would have already been forfeit. At least now I have a fighting chance to save my planet, but if I am to die, at least I can say confidently that it was the will of the Force either way. If I’m going to die for my planet, I’d rather have some good come of it, and this is the most good that I think I’m capable of providing under the circumstances. You may be able to get some valuable intel on the First Order and what they’re planning, and once this war comes, I can only hope that you’ll have enough resources to finish it quickly, before more planets are taken hostage and more civilian lives are put at stake. Although my chief concern is for my planet and my people, I am also compelled to think about the galaxy at large. We are _all_ in danger from the threat the First Order poses, and we need to remain united if such an evil is to ever be defeated.”

            “It seems we’re in agreement,” Leia says as she crosses her arms over her chest as well, mimicking your stance as she juts one hip out to the side, but if you’re not mistaken, she looks to be almost impressed with you. “I don’t know what’s going to happen over there, but we’ll have a live feed of your… _conversation_ recording the whole time. If they try anything, if they get violent, we’ll have that proof to present to the Senate.” She turns to face Poe directly. “The important thing is that we don’t engage them. If they make the first move, _get out of there_. Our goal right now is to make it seem as though we are _only_ there at Queen Lyri’s request to make sure this meeting goes smoothly, nothing more.”

            “Understood,” Poe agrees as he dips his head forward. “But what if they try to take her back with them?” Leia casts an uneasy gaze back towards you, and you know what she was thinking before she even said the words aloud.

            “We can’t get involved,” she says as she glances back towards Poe, and you just bow your head silently. You can see Poe look back towards you as though he wants to argue something in your defense, but there’s nothing he can say.         

            “I’ll figure something out,” you tell him as you glance towards him. “If something happens, I’ll figure something out.” You turn back to Leia, your expression turning serious. “I know how precarious your situation is with the New Republic and I won’t do anything to jeopardize that position, but I’m not going to hand myself over to be killed either.”

            “You’ll figure something out,” Leia agrees with a swift nod of her head. “There’s still a few things that I have to arrange, but I’ll get back to you both when I have more information. Have a good night, you two.”

            “Thanks, you too,” you say quickly, and Poe nods his head silently as he follows you out the door. You wait until you’re a few steps down the hallway and the door is firmly shut behind you before you puff out your cheeks and release a heavy breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding back. “Well, I think it’s safe to say that that went at least a little better than I may have been expecting.”

            Poe simply raises an eyebrow and says nothing as he keeps pace beside you. “Look,” he says at length. “About what the General said, about the rumors-”

            “You don’t need to say anything,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand, and Poe’s eyebrows knot together either in confusion or discontent, you’re not quite sure which.

            “I just want to-”

            “You don’t need to say anything, Poe,” you say a bit more forcefully than you mean to as you look up at him, and Poe seems to understand that this conversation was one you didn’t want to address as he silently nods his head and continues onwards next to you. There were only two ways that conversation could go, and you didn’t want to address either. One option was, of course, was that he simply wanted to take the time to address the rumor and tell you that he felt absolutely nothing for you, which was not something you honestly wanted to hear confirmed aloud. The other option, of course, was that he _did_ feel something, but felt forbidden from acting on them, which was not something that you wanted to hear either, mostly because this wasn’t exactly new information to your ears. Besides the diplomatic entanglements and the fact that you had _much_ more to worry about at the present time, you would one day become Queen of Draboon if you ever lived that long, and Poe’s place was here with the Resistance. In short, your futures simply didn’t line up. It was no wonder that Leia didn’t seem all too concerned with anything happening between you; she knew implicitly that whatever short-lived romance you two may have possibly been entertaining would die as soon as you headed back to your home planet, and nothing more would come of it.

            “Would you like me to escort you back to your room?” Poe asks, and you hesitate for a moment, thinking it over in your head. You want to tell him that no, it isn’t necessary, but given your hasty response earlier, you didn’t want him to think that you were simply brushing him off.

            “I think I would,” you reply as you offer up a small smile in his direction, and it’s one that he quickly returns. “You know, I’m not sure how this is going to all play out, but I’m glad that you’re going to be by my side when this whole thing goes down.”

            “No problem,” Poe replies with a quick shake of his head. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you.” He pauses for a moment before he looks back at you. “Although considering how the General would like me to select someone to be my co-pilot for the rendezvous, is there anyone you had in mind?”

            “Hmm.” You reflect thoughtfully as you dip your head, trying to think about who you’d like to accompany you. It had to be someone that you trusted, not to mention someone that you felt would be quick to jump to your aid if it required it, while still staying true to Leia and Poe’s orders. A name pops into your head almost immediately, and you decide not to waste time by hesitating. “Does Jess have a strong sense of adventure?”

            Poe’s lip quirks upwards in a knowing smile, and you can’t help but let out a contented exhale. “You have no idea,” he replies, and you can’t help but return his smile. “I’ll ask her about it tomorrow, but I don’t have a doubt that she’ll want to get in on this.”

            “Good, good,” you reply with a quick nod of your head. Fortunately, you’re almost to your door now, and there really wasn’t much you wanted to say to Commander Dameron at the moment. You wanted more time to reflect on this, quietly. You had heard so much in such a short span of time, and you weren’t quite sure just how you should feel about any of it, whether it was your impending meeting with the First Order, or Poe’s feelings for you, or even the uncertain future of the galaxy. So many things seemed to be happening at once, and it was difficult to wrap your mind around any of it.

            “I know it’s a lot to process,” Poe offers, as if reading your thoughts. “But we’re here for you, I just want you to know that. If you feel like you need to talk to someone about what’s going on, I’m here.”

            “Thanks,” you reply as you smile up at him. “Honestly, I think what I really just need right now is a hot shower and rest. There’s a lot to consider, and I just want to make sure I’m doing the best I can for myself, my planet, and the galaxy at large. It’s a lot to consider all at once.”

            “It is,” Poe agrees with a quick nod of his head. “But no one said you had to do this alone. As I’ve said before, you have friends here, people who are looking out for you, and you can trust us.”

            “I do trust you,” you reply, before you feel a heat taking over your cheeks. “I mean, I do, I trust all of you. Leia knows this isn’t going to be a war that the Resistance can win on its own, and I know that there’s going to be difficult choices ahead for us, for all of us, but I think we’ll be able to get out of this okay.” You can’t help but let out a small laugh of self-defeat. “Or, at least, I think you guys will. I don’t know what’s going to become of me anymore, but I guess we’ll see.”

            “Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Poe says firmly, but you can’t help but shake your head. You didn’t want to hear his resolute assurances right now any more than you wanted to not be in this situation. You didn’t ask for any of this to happen to you, and yet you were in this situation all the same, and certain choices were now required of you, however much you suddenly wish they weren’t. You were starting to become overwhelmed by the gravity of your situation, and that was something that you weren’t quite sure you knew how to control. However, if you really were on the verge of a breakdown, that was something that Poe didn’t need to see.

            “I should get some rest,” you say quickly as you unlock your door and step inside. “Have a good night, Commander Dameron. I’ll see you in the morning.”

            Poe looks like he wants to say more, but to his credit, he decides to say nothing as he inclines his head forward in a stiff nod. “Have a good night, Princess,” he says at length before he walks back down the corridor, and you quickly shut the door behind him. A part of you knew what he had wanted to say, and a part of you couldn’t allow yourself to hear him say it. That would change too much between you right now, and you needed your relationship with him to remain static. Adding more complications, while they would serve to distract you from the impending threat the First Order posed to your planet, might seem favorable at least temporarily, but overall, you didn’t need to split your focus any more than you already were.

            From behind you, you can hear a knock on the door and you immediately think that it’s Poe, deciding to say something against his better judgement. You want to ignore it but know you reasonably can’t when he _knows_ you’re inside, and so you just let out a soft exhale before you turn around and pull the door open wide. Fortunately, it’s not Poe standing there, but Garrett, carrying a hot tray of food for your supper. You had completely forgotten about eating; you were simply so busy, it hadn’t even occurred to you just how late it was already. “Thanks Garrett,” you say softly as you pull an appreciative smile to your lips. “But I’m not really hungry right now. Do you think you can come back later?”

            “Actually, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something,” Garrett says, almost a bit uncomfortably, and you can’t help but let your eyelids flutter shut as you let out another long exhale.

            _What else could possibly go wrong?_

You open the door a little wider as you gesture for him to come inside. “Come in,” you sigh as you gesture over to his familiar seat, making sure to shut the door firmly behind him. As he puts his plate down on the table in front of you and takes his familiar seat, you slip onto the couch and pull the tray of food onto your lap. “Now,” you say as you look him over, popping a bite of a morsel into your mouth. “What is it that you want to talk to me about?”

            “This,” Garrett hesitates for a moment, as if he doesn’t want to continue, but pushes through anyway. “This concerns Poe Dameron, Your Highness. We have sources that say he is not to be trusted.”

            “Garrett-” you begin softly, shaking your head from side to side. You were almost certain that Commander Dameron didn’t have a mean bone in his body, and in your mind, there was no way he had done anything that would cause your trust in him to be misplaced. “I don’t think-”

            “We have reason to believe that he is the traitor who notified the First Order of your association with the Resistance,” Garrett says quickly, and you can’t help but let your eyes widen in surprise.

            _…what?_  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so maybe Poe isn't a bad guy, but unfortunately this is something that our Reader is not completely certain of just yet. Will she trust Poe and the rest of the Resistance to help her through her own personal conflict with the First Order, or would she decide that she's better off trying to do this alone? I guess you'll have to wait and see!! Until next week, cheers!!


	10. Chapter 10

            “Impossible.”

            You shake your head from side to side and hold up one hand, refusing to hear any more of what Garrett had to say. The notion, the _idea_ , that Commander Poe Dameron was the traitor who was responsible for your current predicament was, quite frankly, absurd. Besides the fact that this was something that the First Order had probably been planning for quite some time, Poe was someone that you knew you could trust, and you could count those people on one hand. No, Poe cared about you for you, not just your station, and he cared about your well-being. He would not want to see any harm come to you, and he would not do anything to risk it.

            “I’m afraid it might be true, Your Highness,” Garrett says softly, but you just shake your head again, a bit more aggressively this time.

            “If it’s true then I’ll assume you have proof,” you say as you set your plate down, crossing your arms firmly over your chest. At this rate, you physically couldn’t eat anymore, you were simply too stuffed with stress as it was.

            “We have some idea,” Garrett offers, but you just shake your head again. That wasn’t good enough for you.

            “Tell me, right now, what exactly he has done or what you have seen in order for you to bring this accusation to me, or I will consider it completely unfounded,” you insist as you wait for Garrett to plead his case.

            “Well, there are the rumors,” he ventures slowly, and you give him time to gather his thoughts before you dismiss them outright. “It’s possible that he wants to scare you away from returning to Draboon, so that you could stay here, with him.” You let out a snort of disbelief, the corner of your lip quirking upward into a disbelieving smile. “Toka says that he’s heard talk that Commander Dameron is not what he seems to be. He’s selfish and possessive, thinking only of himself and his own interests-”

            “And where is Toka getting this information from, I wonder?” you muse openly, pursing your lips together. “A jealous ex, perhaps?”

            “A friend of his from within the New Republic,” Garrett replies quickly. “Major Deso of the New Republic Command. He used to be Commander Dameron’s superior, head commander of the New Republic Base on Mirrin Prime that supervised patrols in that sector. According to Major Deso, Commander Dameron is known to have crossed into First Order territory on multiple occasions, and every trip was scrubbed from his logs without sufficient explanation.”

            “And isn’t it more than possible that Major Deso and Commander Dameron have some long-standing feud that Toka just happens to be ignorant of?” you ask as you raise your eyebrows. “After all, Poe did leave the New Republic to join with the Resistance after the capture of the _Yissira Zyde_. Don’t you think it might be possible that he is trying to besmirch Commander Dameron’s good name as a petty act of revenge against perceived insubordination?”

            “If I may give my opinion quite frankly, Your Highness,” Garrett says quickly. “I am afraid your judgement might be clouded concerning this matter. It is no secret that you and Commander Dameron are, well, _close_ , but how well do you really know him? This is an issue that concerns Draboon’s security, first and foremost, and he is an outsider in that regard.”

            “I’d be careful how you speak,” you warn him, your voice dipping dangerously low. “Do not presume to know, Garrett, not about me, nor my relationship with him, which you know has been nothing but professional since the moment I arrived. He is a friend, and assuming anything more than that is an assumption that has led to the start of these rumors, which I have no interest in entertaining. If, and I do mean _if_ , I had romantic interest in him, then that would be something that I would address directly with him, and no one else, and I do mean _no one._ As it stands, I have far more important things to worry about, and while that does include Draboon, I am _not_ ignorant enough to assume that my decisions solely affect our system. Every move I make directly affects the Resistance, who is the galaxy’s greatest hope of eliminating the First Order once and for all. Would you have me selfishly preserve my life and Draboon’s stable future by an alliance with the First Order, only to watch the galaxy collapse into ruin around us?”

            “If it meant your life, Your Highness, then yes,” Garrett says firmly, and you can’t help but narrow your eyes at him.

            “Then you are short-sighted,” you say firmly. “There are more important things going on here than myself or Draboon, and I intend to help with that however I can.”

            “Because of Commander Dameron or General Organa?” Garrett asks. “I don’t know what they’ve been saying to you, but there are some that are concerned that they are trying to indoctrinate you into the Resistance. Forgive me for saying so, Your Highness, but they know how advantageous it would be for them to have control of Draboon’s resources, and so they are manipulating you, trying to get you on their side to take advantage of the wealth that we control. The First Order is trying to take advantage of us, too, yes, but so is the Resistance, and I’m concerned that you may not be seeing that clearly.”

            “What I discuss with Commander Dameron and the General is my own business,” you reply crossly, keeping your tongue behind clenched teeth. Your jaw is set, and your eyes are full of fire as you speak. “Do not attempt to undermine my credibility here. I know when I’m being taken advantage of, and I know when I’m being manipulated. That is not the case here. The Resistance and I have goals that seem to have come into alignment right now, and I happen to _want_ to give them whatever aid that they require. I may not be in a position to do so _at the moment_ , but if my mother is set on stepping down and allowing me to become Queen, then this will be my rule, and I will devote Draboon’s resources to helping the Resistance in their quest, lest more people be placed in my predicament by the treachery of the First Order.”

            “So you aim to lead us into war?” Garrett asks, and the surprise is palpable in his voice as his eyes widen.

            “No, war is the very thing I am trying to avoid,” you say flatly. “Aiding the Resistance means less of our own people will be impacted by this, and I think we both know that the New Republic would never come to our aid. They are too absorbed in their own affairs, and they would do nothing for us, especially with the First Order on our doorstep. The only chance we have at opposing the treachery of the First Order is the Resistance, and that is what I aim to do. My mother sensed this as well; after all, that’s why we’re here.”

            Garrett hesitates for a moment, and he either decides against saying whatever it was that he was thinking, or is beginning to reconsider his previous comments. “I meant no offense,” he finally says as he glances up at you, his dark eyes large and pleading. “I know that you’re going through a lot right now and I just want to make sure that you aren’t being coerced into aiding the Resistance in any way that isn’t by your choice.”

            “None of this seems to be my choice,” you admit with a sigh. “Or at least, very little of it seems to be in my control. It’s my choice how I choose to react to what’s happening, and I’m doing the best that I think that I possibly can considering the circumstances that I’m faced with.”

            Garrett just nods his head slowly, as if struggling to accept this himself. “If there is any way, any way at all, that your guards can be of assistance, please inform us. We are here to aid in Draboon’s best interests, and our primary concern right now is protecting our future Queen.”

            “Thanks, Garrett,” you reply, although your voice is hollow. You want to say more, want to remind him that it was more than possible that you wouldn’t have a future as Draboon’s Queen if the First Order had anything to say about it, but you simply dismiss him as you get up and head toward the bathroom. You strip down and turn on the water for the shower. You wait for the water to warm up before you step under the warm drops raining down from the spigot and begin to think.

            The situation, by and large, didn’t make any sense, and the fact that Poe Dameron now seemed to be in the center of things was starting to disconcert you more than anything. At first he seemed like an ally, someone you could trust, but you couldn’t deny that Garrett’s words did seem to hold some weight after all. You had told him much, perhaps too much, about Draboon, and as Garrett himself had pointed out, Poe was just an outsider. You weren’t foolish enough to think that he was secretly providing the First Order with valuable intel about you, but at the same time, was it possible that he really was simply manipulating you for the benefit of the Resistance?

            Maybe he was the one behind the rumors. Maybe he sensed somehow that you felt some sort of affection for him, and the rumors that had suddenly spread around base would only serve to make you think that he felt something as well. Leia’s direct line of inquiry would certainly prove that she believed there was something to the rumors, and yet, what if she was in on it too? She certainly had the most to gain by keeping you in her back pocket, and perhaps she was hoping that she could blackmail you in some way, perhaps for more financial assistance. After all, it didn’t truly matter if anything was going on between you and Poe or not; if enough people believed it, she could perhaps make the case that…

            No, no, this was foolish thinking. In haste, you finish scrubbing yourself off and quickly step out of the shower, pushing your wet hair back out of your face. You could trust yourself, that much was true, but there had to be other people that you could trust as well, or you were going to quickly become paranoid trying to figure out just who was trying to take advantage of you and your situation. In truth, it seemed there were _many_ people who were trying to do that, but it only meant that you had to stay one step ahead of them to beat them at their own game. You were young, yes, but you were not helpless, nor would you allow yourself to be. You would figure this out, and just wait for the pieces of the puzzle to reveal themselves.

            As you drifted off to sleep, you believed this to be the best plan that you could possibly come up with, but you found yourself in a considerably worse mood upon awakening. You were irritable, and not only just; you were out for blood. You didn’t recall having any dreams or nightmares that night, but you couldn’t deny that there was a sense of frustration that seemed to be running hot and thick in your blood, and you didn’t seem set on trying to ease this sense of frustration as you slowly began to dress for your training session with Poe.

            Unfortunately, the heat in your blood doesn’t die down, and you’re still in a less than hospitable mood as Poe Dameron knocks on your door. If you didn’t want him to see how visibly affected you were, you were off to a bad start as you jerked the door open with a frustrated pull. Poe quirks an eyebrow up as he notices your jerky movement, and looks between the door and you several times before he speaks. “Everything okay?”

            “Fine,” you reply curtly as you shake your head, stepping past him as you close your door shut behind him. “What’s the plan for today?”

            “Well, I was thinking we could practice restricted landing approaches and traffic lane control using the relays,” Poe replies, but he can’t help but look you up and down as he walks along beside you. “Bad dreams last night?”

            You just raise your eyebrows and tilt your head to the side in consideration. Honestly, you couldn’t think of a nightmare that was worse than the situation that you were in right now, and Poe seems to realize this as he falls silent once again.

            The walk to the hangar is long and silent, the two of you simply wordlessly board the shuttle. As you begin the process of starting up the shuttle, Poe seems to be loading something into the computer, much like he had for your practical exams. This time, once the shuttle was ready to fly, a maze of grid lines was overlaid on the cockpit windows, giving the impression of a city. You mediate clearance from control, then begin picking your way through the onscreen lines as if it were Coruscant, Eriadu’s residential sector, or even Hosnian Prime. You’re having trouble with the traffic lane rules, however, as you keep drifting out of the small, tight traffic window  to avoid hitting oncoming speeders. Eventually, you find that the traffic sky lanes prove impractical for a shuttle such as the one you are flying, simply because of its size.

            You try to salvage what little you had been able to read while you were caught up dealing with this First Order ordeal, but then again, you hadn’t been able to remember much.

            You set a course for a green dot on the map of D’Qar, indicating the location of a landing zone. As you approach, two red lines appear on your cockpit windows and begin slowly moving closer together, until you’re directly above it and the red lines converge. For a moment, you’re proud of salvaging at least _something_ until you realize that you never once engaged the automatic tracking functions of the shuttle’s maneuvering computers.

            “Okay, this isn’t working,” Poe says under his breath as he takes back the controls, and your eyes travel to his face, then back to your hands, as you struggle to move the controls in front of you. You can see that they’re locked, that there’s nothing you can do, but it doesn’t stop you from trying to move them uselessly anyway, but they’re as effective as playing on a child’s simulation ship.

            “Kidnapping?” you ask dryly as you see Poe heading the ship towards one of D’Qar’s open plateaus. “Is that what’s going on here?”

            “You know it’s not,” Poe replies, and while his voice is more or less even, his face is set and his forehead is puckered, as if he’s seriously concerned by your change in attitude towards him. You feel a pang of guilt shoot through your chest but you stay silent as you watch Poe hover the shuttle just over the even plateau before he sets it down. He waits until the engines die down before he finally locks the shuttle’s controls again and turns deliberately to you. “So, do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

            “I don’t know what you mean,” you reply, as you turn to face him in turn. “But I think I should ask you the same question.” You gesture at the plateau out the transparisteel windows. “Any specific reason you brought me here?”

            “I’m just setting her down so we can talk,” Poe replies, letting his sincerity shine through his features. “At first I thought something might be wrong and you just didn’t want to talk about it, but now I’m starting to think that I’ve upset you in some way and I want to know why.”

            “Perceptive,” you mutter sarcastically, and Poe’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You can see that you’ve insulted him, and you can’t help but sigh as you rub at your temple in frustration. True, you didn’t know who you could trust, but treating Poe like he was the enemy wasn’t going to help you at all.

            “Look, I’m sorry. Really. My situation isn’t your fault. I know that, you know that, and yet I’ve recently come into information that…” Your voice trails off as you shift uncomfortably, but Poe’s expression doesn’t change. You’ve offended him, and now he wants to know why. You set your face as you square your shoulders, preparing to actually confront him about this as you should have when you had first come into this information. “Certain members of my security detailing have come into some information that you are not who you say you are. Their sources say you are not to be trusted.”

            Poe’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he seems to consider this for a moment before he turns back to you. “Do tell.” His voice is quiet, waiting, and you can feel your mood souring as the seconds passed. You didn’t mean to have treated him with such disdain, but now that you had, it was clear that you were going to pay the price and tell him what you knew. And you were definitely regretting it.

            “And if I don’t feel comfortable revealing my information or my sources to you?” you ask, trying and failing to obtain the upper hand.

            “Well then, it’ll be hard for me to refute the charges against me if I don’t know what they are,” Poe counters, but his voice is slightly friendlier this time, and you grab hold of this as you hope that you can use this as an opportunity to repair what you had already damaged.

            “I do believe you are familiar with a Major Deso from the New Republic?” you ask as you raise your eyebrows, and the effect on Poe is immediate. He lets out a gruff sigh as his head dips forward and he runs both hands dramatically through his hair.

            “Look, Deso-” Poe starts, before he seemingly changes his mind as he shakes his head from side to side. “I can only imagine the things that _Deso_ would have to say about me, but after all this time, I would have thought that you would know me well enough to know that none of the things he said were true.” His forehead puckers again as he turns back to his controls, and you feel a momentary burst of panic flood through your veins.

            “Put yourself in my situation,” you tell him, your voice a bit louder than you mean it to be. “One of the members of my security team comes to me and tells me that they have a trusted source in the New Republic that wants me to know that I should be wary of you, that you disappear into First Order space for unexplained stretches of time. What am I supposed to think? It’s already possible that there’s a spy in the Resistance, and all I know is someone I trusted may have betrayed me.”

            “And you think that person was me?” Poe demands incredulously as he turns around to face you, and you quickly shake your head from side to side.

            “No,” you reply quickly. “No, I _don’t_ think that, but it made me realize that I need to be careful with the people that I do trust.”

            “Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?” Poe demands, and you can’t help but lower your eyes. “I understand the position that you’re in, but I thought you knew that I’m on your side. Especially when you know that we’ll be headed to the rendezvous soon, I thought you trusted me not to let anything happen to you.”

            “I do,” you say quickly, frustrated by how quickly you had dug yourself into a hole that there was seemingly no escape from. “Look, Poe, I’m sorry that I was rude to you this morning. It was uncalled for and I should have just told you what was wrong to begin with. I’m scared, okay? I know that the people that I can trust are few and far between, and I’m afraid those that I do trust are going to end up betraying me and selling me out to the First Order. I don’t know how long the First Order has been targeting my planet for, but there’s a very good chance that if you hadn’t come to my planet and found me, I could very well be dead or imprisoned right now. I owe you a lot, Poe Dameron, and you’re right, you’ve never given me a reason not to trust you. I’m sorry.”

            “No,” Poe says quickly as he shakes his head from side to side, all hints of his previous frustration erased. “No, don’t be sorry. I understand your position and where you’re coming from, and I know you need to keep hearing it so I’ll keep saying it, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I understand why you would be nervous about trusting me, about trusting any of us here with the Resistance, and the fact that you can still try and reach out to us and tell us what’s going on and accept our help is amazing to me. This is a difficult situation but you’ve proven to be such a strong person and I can see you’re willing to do whatever you need to do to fight for yourself and your planet, and when you do, I’m going to be right there with you.”

            “Thank you,” you whisper softly. Your lips tremble as you look him over, and you know at once that right there, you want to kiss him. You want to reach up and press your lips against his and feel his soft lips against yours in return. In your mind, it’s a gentle gesture of trust and affection, but you know what else it means, and implicitly, you know that it will only complicate things and lead to something deeper. So you simply let the moment pass as your heart shudders in your chest.

            “We’ll come out here again,” Poe says suddenly, and you can’t help but tilt your head to the side in confusion. For a moment, you almost thought that you were so involved in your daydream about kissing him that you had simply lost track of what he was saying, but that didn’t appear to be the case. “We’re on a schedule right now, but before you leave, when things die down a bit, we should come out here again. The sunset on D’Qar is beautiful, and I’d hate for you to miss it while you’re here.”

            You briefly consider that Poe had been able to read your mind and seen that you wanted to kiss him, but another part of you suddenly wonders if perhaps he had experienced the same urge as well. Even you couldn’t deny that the word _sunset_ had _romantic_ implications, and the way he phrased it made it sound almost like a date. You didn’t know when he had in mind, but you knew implicitly that it couldn’t be right now, and it seemed that he knew that as well. The whole thing wasn’t right, the timing was off right now, but in the future, perhaps after things died down a bit? It wasn’t as if you were truly romantically engaged to anyone, and even Poe knew that your current political engagement was nothing more than a sham that you hoped to dismantle at the quickest opportunity. The war would eventually come to an end, and then maybe after…

            “I’d like that,” you say as a happy smile touches the corners of your lips, and it’s a smile that Poe quickly returns. You didn’t know what the future had in store for you. You didn’t know whether you could truly trust the Resistance any more than you could trust the New Republic, but those were just large institutions that seemed set on serving their own self-interests. One thing that you were now sure of, however, was that you could trust people, and you could trust your own instincts, and those instincts told you that you could trust Poe Dameron.

            And you did. You really did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter chapter this week, but I definitely make up for it in next week's chapter. It'll be a lot longer because we finally meet Kole Praxton for the first time, and I don't think you want me to spoil how that all goes down. Until next week, cheers!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1/2

            A part of you almost couldn’t believe how incredibly slowly time seemed to be moving. Since you had woken up that morning, your thoughts had been driven by one thing and one thing only: your subsequent meeting with the First Order in only a few short hours. You could barely sleep, but you forced yourself to get at least a few troubled hours of restless twisting underneath your covers in before you heard a familiar knock on the door a bit earlier than you had anticipated.

            You expected it to be Poe, but it was actually Jess who came to greet you, advising you to be dressed and ready to go within the hour. You had dressed quickly, and while you knew that they probably expected you to be fitted with Draboon’s lavish vestments, you again chose something that was much more austere and simplistic. There was no one you needed to impress with fineries here, and you wanted to confirm any suspicions right then and there that you were _not_ your mother, and you were not going to give up control of your planet that easily.

            There’s suddenly another knock on the door, and you open it to see Garrett standing there, his arms full of what looked like armored plates. You usher him inside as he sets them down on his usual chair. “What are those?” you ask nervously. “Are those for me?”

            Garrett nods his head forward a few times. “Your Highness, I’m afraid we have to insist that you also wear body armor for this visit. Not only are we dealing with the First Order for the first time, but Bothawui’s neutral status also makes it host to several unsavory mercenaries. Remember, you have more to fear than just the First Order.”

            “How could I forget?” you reply bitterly. There was always the chance of a kidnapping and possible ransom by an unsavory bounty hunter to gain easy access to the reserve of Draboon’s wealth and lapis supply, but fortunately you were well-guarded against such threats on your planet. Here, however, you were most definitely not safe.

            Garrett leaves to let you get dressed, and as you look over the armor, you’re thankful that you had dressed in something simple so you didn’t have to change. You put it on slowly, plate by plate, and you can’t help but feel a spike of adrenaline shoot through you as you suddenly realize how dangerous this mission really was.

            As you finish tightening the last plate onto the support webbing, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You had worn similar armor a handful of occasions on Draboon when the head of security insisted that you and your mother practice wearing it for an emergency drill, just so you knew how to wear it if you were to ever be put in an unfortunate situation where it was required. At the time, your mother had regarded the protection as frivolous and paranoid. She felt that her royal status put her somehow above mundane combat, and insisted that the Queen of Draboon was never meant to face combat.

            Still, as you felt the weight of the armor on your shoulders and heard the satisfying _clack_ as the plates closed over one another as you moved, you couldn’t help but admit that you kind of liked it. It made you feel strong. It made you feel powerful. When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you didn’t see the girl who was hesitant to take over control of her entire planet. In her place, you saw a warrior, who was willing to fight to defend her people. You didn’t even have to pause to consider which one you liked more.

            Jess returned to collect you shortly after you dressed, and together you headed into the hangar with your security team following at your heels. You had chosen a select group of three to accompany you on this mission: Garrett, of course, along with Toka, and Jeoff. You were secretly hoping that Toka would be able to see the good in the Resistance and with Poe himself, despite what he may have heard from Major Deso of the New Republic, and Jeoff was the most experienced of the group and appeared to think on his feet. Besides that, he was tall, broad-shouldered and imposing, the exact kind of build that made him perfectly suited to be a bodyguard, and would make anyone in the First Order think twice before trying to lay a hand on you.

            Poe was in the hangar and appeared to be going over a checklist with BB-8 on the shuttle. As you approached, he greeted you with a stiff nod, and you returned it quickly. He seemed all business today, his forehead slightly puckered, and you could tell that he was as nervous about this as you were. You reasoned part of the reason he hadn’t been there to collect you himself that morning was because he had been meeting with Leia, who probably had some choice instructions, from what to do and what _not_ to do regarding your situation and how he should engage the First Order. To tell the truth, you didn’t know how involved you truly wished him to be; you didn’t know what to expect from Kole Praxton or the First Order, and so you didn’t know what questions you should have been asking yourself to help you prepare for this meeting.

            Regardless, you made your way into the shuttle and took your seat on the far side behind the co-pilot’s chair as Jess slipped into it, beginning the pre-flight checks on the console in front of her. Garrett took a seat directly across from you, with Toka sitting beside him, leaving Jeoff to sit on the far side of the aisle, staring straight out at the cockpit to leave the seat beside you free. You can’t help but gnaw on your lower lip as you strap yourself in and get ready to go, unsure if you wanted to delay your trip every minute you could or get this over with as soon as you possibly could.

            “You doing okay?” Your eyes snap straight up to see Poe Dameron staring down at you, and you quickly glance down to his side at BB-8’s large black eye before you let out a puffed exhale of trapped air from between your cheeks.

            “Yeah,” you say with a light laugh, but you can tell from the intensity of Poe’s dark gaze that he’s encouraging you to tell the truth, letting you know that you didn’t have to pretend to be okay for his sake, and while that was true, he wasn’t the only person on board. To your security team, you were their future Queen, and you were not about to admit or display any weakness in front of them. “I’m ready to go as soon as you are, Commander.”

            Poe seems to sense this as he nods in your direction and slips into the cockpit. “Bothawui, here we come,” Jess mutters under her breath to Poe, who just nods in response. You’re nervous, but you attempt to deflect your unease as best you can as you dip your eyes down to BB-8, who seems to have secured himself to the wall just behind Poe’s chair.

            “Hey there, BB-8,” you say softly, and the droid’s head swivels around to look at you. “You coming along to protect me too?”

          BB-8 scoots over to the nearby readout screen before answering. _Someone has to keep this crate flying. Anything goes wrong, I’m on it. I don’t want to be on that planet any longer than we have to be._

            “Well, I definitely feel safer having you on board,” you reply, and out of the corner of your eye, you think you can just manage to see the corner of Poe’s lip quirk upwards in amusement as you head out of D’Qar’s atmosphere and start towards Bothawui. It’s not a long trip, but suddenly you can’t help but feel incredibly nervous, your stomach giving more than its usual lurch as you jump into hyperspace.

            “So what’s going to happen?” you ask as you lean forward, straining against the chest harness that was securing your torso. “When we get there, are you guys going to stay with the ship? What’s going to happen? Walk me through it.”

            “Your team will be right there beside you,” Poe explains. “As I’ve told you before, we’re just your escorts. We can’t get involved in any way.”

            “That’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to brush off the fact that you couldn’t recall when exactly Poe had ever said that to you. Leia had, you knew that implicitly, but you had a feeling he was saying what he was more for the benefit of your team than for you. “Although what would you like me to say if they want you to come out and play? Should I just insist you’re not involved, or-?”

            “I’ll come out with you,” Poe says suddenly, and you can tell by the way Jess’ ponytail jerks to the side as she looks at him sharply that this is _not_ a part of the original plan. “I’ll hang back, of course, but I’ll come with you.” He turns his head slightly to regard Jess. “ _We_ represent the Resistance. It’s not her place to be speaking for us.”

            You can hear Jess let out a small sigh of frustration as she slowly dips her head forward and nods. “Yeah, agreed,” she relents. “Where do you want me to be?”

            “Stay back near the ship,” Poe advises. “Just in case things get messy and we have to make a hasty getaway, I don’t want any hiccups.”

            “Roger that.”

            “I hate that I even need to say this,” you say suddenly as you turn back to your own team. “But in the event that the First Order wants to take me back to Draboon, I am hopefully making it very clear to you right here, right now, that I am _not_ going back with them. Hopefully they won’t use force, but if they do, it is your objective to get us out of there safely, and yes, I’m saying _us_ , because the Resistance was kind enough to invite us here, and to provide us with safe passage there, and we will, of course, _return_ the favor.” You don’t mean to cast a deliberate look at Toka as you say this, but your eyes seem to travel in his direction anyway, and he at least has the decency to look ashamed as he glances away.

            “Thanks,” Poe offers. “But I wouldn’t worry about us too much. If things get messy, we’ve got two squadrons patrolling the area close by, just in case the First Order decides to try anything.”

            “You’re not going to be the only ones,” you point out. “If the First Order _is_ set on trying anything, they’re going to have other ships, other troops, in the area too, just to be cautious. Even if they don’t, I doubt that they’re going to show up and risk being less prepared than you are.”

            “You can count on that,” Poe replies, turning his head slightly to glance in your direction. “That’s why we have a small HoloNet team camped nearby. They’re set to monitor the whole interaction via a live feed that’s recording the entire meeting. If the First Order tries anything, anything at all, we’ll have evidence to take to the New Republic that they’re more belligerent than the Senate currently believes them to be.”

            “That could work out in your favor,” you manage after a few moments of deliberating this. “So, what you’re basically saying is, if they do kidnap me, this could work out in your favor? You could take that video to the New Republic and they could agree to step in? Because although I don’t trust them, their support could be paramount in freeing Draboon from First Order control if I can’t figure out a way to do it myself.”

            “I wouldn’t count on that,” Poe replies sullenly, and you can tell that he’s watching his words carefully so that he doesn’t let something accidentally slip that should otherwise remain quiet. “We have no way to guarantee what the New Republic might do with that information, and so the General might just want to sit on any information we gather for now. One negative event could be perceived as an isolated incident, but repeated threats on sovereign planets couldn’t, well, _shouldn’t_ be ignored.”

            “I see,” you say as you bow your head, thinking this over in your mind. In a way, you weren’t _entirely_ opposed to the structure of the First Order. The New Republic Senate was corrupt, and while everyone knew it, it seemed that no one was able to do anything about it, and so the status quo remained that the planets of the Core Worlds, who were greatly favored by the New Republic, got the best treatment, while the outlying planets were left to fend for themselves. The First Order wanted to control the galaxy and set up a new system of government, one that operated under a central head, and while the Empire already served as a perfect model as to why such a system was bound to fail, a part of you agreed that you needed at least _some_ sort of acting head in order to make decisions. It had worked well on Draboon, but you could honestly say that both you and your mother cared for the people there. You weren’t sure you could say the same for the First Order, nor did you truly want to. They didn’t know your planet like you did, didn’t look at your planet’s worth beyond its valuable resources and lapis reserves, and that was why, although you could understand the perceived benefit of a strong central government, their approach was just as flawed as that of the New Republic.

            No, you would do the best you could to keep Draboon decidedly independent, although now it looked like you needed more help than ever if you wanted to keep it that way.

            The ship drops out of hyperspace as it begins its slow descent into Bothawui’s atmosphere, and you can feel your stomach lurch, seemingly of its own accord. To be honest, you weren’t afraid, but you were nervous about just what fate awaited you in your deliberations with the First Order. There was always the possibility that Kole or one of his men could pull out a blaster and shoot you between the eyes before you even had time to flinch or pull away. That, of course, was the worst case scenario, but there was also the very strong potential that it might end up being the most realistic one as well.

            Regardless, it’s more than just a little too late to turn back now and so you mentally prepare yourself as the ship slowly lowers itself towards the city. You can see trees pass underneath you before the view through the crystalline glass opens up into a small town, and then a sprawling city, where buildings started to get taller and larger with the passing of each second. You survey the landscape ahead of you before you quickly force yourself to look away, suddenly unsure if this planet is where you’re going to meet your end. You can see Garrett catch your eye, and he gives his head a firm nod of support that helps you harden your resolve, at least slightly. Poe takes you out further, seemingly towards the end of the city, before he finally slows the shuttle. You can feel the vertical descent of the ship’s drop, but you almost don’t want to look as you can feel Poe set her down, cautiously, finally.

            You don’t want to look. No one speaks, and the it’s the silence that unnerves you more than anything, finally propelling you forward so that you can glance out the clear crystalline windshield once again. “Oh shit.”

            The words are out of your mouth before you even have time to hold them back. Parked in front of your ship are two other sprawling grey shuttles, although they looked boxier in construction and you knew implicitly that they were used for the transport of soldiers. _Lots_ of soldiers with the distinct white armor of Stormtroopers, and you almost couldn’t count them all as they stood in neat little rows behind a central figure who was sharply dressed, standing a little ways in front of the others, with his hands folded behind his back in parade rest. Your mouth opened and closed, but aside from that unintentional little slip of the tongue you had made earlier, your brain seemed to have stopped functioning.

            “Your future husband, I presume,” Jess offers as she looks up at you, and you can tell that she’s trying to make a joke to put you at ease, but it doesn’t sound very funny to your ears. Poe seems to feel the same way, as he shoots her a warning glance before he turns back to you.

            “You okay?” he asks, his voice soft and gentle, and for the first time you seriously consider just leaving Draboon and the entire galaxy behind you. You weren’t a coward, but you weren’t a hero, either, and you had no idea just what you could hope to accomplish by trying to take on the First Order yourself. Best-case scenario was that you were going to be killed now, before you made a fool of yourself and became a disgrace to your planet. A part of you wants to ask if they can take you back, if they will take you back, before Poe finds your hand and gives it a firm squeeze.

            “Right,” you say, staring straight out ahead of you, but Poe seems surprised by either your indirect answer or the firmness in your voice. “Let’s do this.” You pull away from him quickly as you turn back to face your security detail, who has lined up in a neat little row in front of you. “The time for games is over. I don’t know what’s going to happen once I step outside those doors, but there’s a very real chance that we could all lose our lives out there.”

            This is your moment. This is your time to say what you want to say, to make your epic speech that will somehow make all of this feel worth it. You can feel the inspiration stirring in your blood, can feel yourself on the cusp of some great precipice of wisdom, but your doubt holds you back and you fall short. “So, uh, let’s get this over with, shall we? Let’s go.”

            If they’re surprised by your lackluster inspiration, they make no mention of it as they head out of the shuttle, Jeoff and Toka leading the charge, and Garrett and Poe walking along behind you. Jess hangs back a little ways with BB-8, but you know there’s not a chance that she’s going to stay inside the ship and miss a minute of the action. Personally, you are hoping that as little action occurs as possible, but you know that you can guarantee nothing, especially as far as the First Order was concerned. Regardless, you try to keep your face composed and your air as unaffected as possible as you make your way down the boarding ramp and towards Kole’s location. You couldn’t even see over Jeoff’s massive shoulders as you walked, and in the back of your mind, you almost thought that this was like some sort of sick funeral procession.

            Finally, though, you reach the end of your march, and Jeoff and Toka both step aside to allow you to face the man your mother had betrothed you to. Again, you couldn’t help but be reminded that he wasn’t altogether _un_ attractive, but there was something about him that just seemed off to you, whether it was his icy blue eyes that seemed to penetrate you down to your core, or the fact that he was working with the First Order that unnerved you so much. “Your Highness,” he says, and his voice is somehow more friendly and cordial than you otherwise would have expected it to be. “Finally, we meet at last.”

            “So it seems,” you reply, pursing your lips as you push the corners upwards in a saccharine smile.

            “Oh, come now,” Kole says, spreading his hands in what you perceived to be a feigned gesture of sincerity. “I would have expected you to be at least a _little_ excited to meet me-”

            “It seems you were mistaken,” you reply succinctly, but it’s suddenly clear that Kole isn’t finished yet.

            “-or perhaps your reaction is a bit tempered by your friends standing behind you?” Kole raises an eyebrow as he crosses his muscular arms over his broad chest. “Poe Dameron, in the flesh. How is Princess Leia doing these days?”

            “The General’s doing just fine,” Poe says curtly, but his voice is stiff and authoritative, unlike anything you’ve ever heard from him before. For a moment, you almost wonder if Toka wasn’t wrong when he said that there was a side to Poe that you had never seen before, not that it mattered much now. When it came down to it, there was Poe and there was Kole, and you would end up leaving today with one of them, although hopefully you had at least some say in the matter.

            “The Resistance party is just here as an escort,” you say sharply, drawing Kole’s eyes back to you. “They have nothing to do with Draboon or the arrangement that you’ve apparently organized with Queen Lyri; all of these troops are unnecessary.”

            “They’re a gift, selected from the finest of my private security forces,” Kole says as he gestures behind him dramatically with one arm, and you can’t help but quirk up an eyebrow as you survey the battalion of unmoving white helmets, each expression looking more taciturn and immobile than the last. They looked like neat rows of little toy soldiers, and a part of you wondered if there were really people alive under there, people who could stand so still for such a long period of time without shifting or even taking a moment to wipe the sweat from their brow.

            “A gift?” you repeat incredulously as you glance behind him once again. “And what, may I ask, do you expect me to do with such a present? You and I both know that Stormtroopers are banned, no matter what you want to call them.”

            “Ah, but these are not Stormtroopers, Your Highness, cogs of a standing Imperial Army. No, they are my security forces, trained and equipped by yours truly. Take them as a token of my good will towards the people of Draboon,” Kole begins, and you can feel your heart start to sink in your chest with each passing word. “It’s common knowledge that Draboon has no fleet of its own, no substantial military presence with which to defend its extensive trade network. Your mother was particularly thorough in describing the security risks-”

            “If I find that you have threatened or mistreated her in any way, I will make sure that you are held accountable to the fullest extent that I can,” you say darkly, your voice low in your throat, catching on the rough edges you didn’t know you had there. Regardless, Kole just laughs, and it’s such a rich sound that it almost seems to throw you off balance for a moment.

            “Believe me when I say that harming her is far from the top in my list of interests,” Kole tells you, his voice alight with good humor. “I have absolutely no intention of harming my future mother-in-law.” Your face flushes scarlet, and for a moment you find your composure slipping until Kole speaks next, his voice sobering slightly as he gestures out in front of him. “Your Highness, if I may, I think that it might be best if we were to speak privately. I’m worried about how some of the things I have to say will be perceived by your, uh, friends.”

            His eyes wander in Poe’s direction, and you can feel Poe about to retort, but you beat him to it. It wasn’t his place, it wasn’t his decision, but fortunately it was one that you happened to agree on. “They are here by my request,” you say firmly. “Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of them. I am interested in the best interests of _my_ planet, not whatever squabbles you happen to hold with the Resistance. _That_ is none of my concern.”

            “Sage words,” Kohl agrees, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Although not necessarily mutually exclusive. Your mother explained how she had offered funds to the Resistance in order to gain their support and their protection, but what do you need protection from, exactly? Pirates? Your system has already done a steady job at keeping them at bay, and considering how far away the Resistance base likely is and the small size of their fleet, I doubt they would be able to be of much assistance to you.”

            He spreads his hands plainly as he talks again, and you wonder if this is a forced gesture in order to try to improve his look of sincerity or if he truly spoke with his hands this much. Perhaps it was a nervous tic, or some combination of all three. “I can only imagine what they’ve told you about us, about the First Order, and what it plans to accomplish. We do have goals, goals that I’d like to go over with you at another time when we’re out of earshot of some select individuals here, but they do not involve your planet. We can have a mutually beneficial arrangement, you and I. With the might of the First Order, we will secure, and expand, Draboon’s trade routes, and offer you protection for these routes. I can assure you, you have nothing to fear from us. We only wish to help.”

            “Help yourselves to a cut of that profit, I’m sure,” you reply sharply, and the corner of Kole’s lip pulls back into a smirk. “And suppose what you’re saying is true, that you truly have found a way for Draboon and the First Order to benefit each other. If that is the case, then I hardly see the need to secure it with an alliance of marriage.”

            “Believe it or not, that was not _my_ idea,” Kole tells you, his voice light, and you’re left wondering for a moment just whose idea that was. Surely it couldn’t have been your mother’s, although at this point, you didn’t want to rule out any possibilities. “Such an alliance would cement the joint power of Draboon and the First Order, and it’s a statement that needs to be made. Considering how Queen Lyri had so rashly funded the Resistance, there was talk of some sort of… _reprimand_. However, we were able to come to an agreement that was amiable to both parties.”

            “I have a speculation,” you say as you tilt your head to one side. “One would almost think that you coerced my mother into this arrangement, threatened a hostile takeover of our planet, and the only way that she was able to keep power within our line was attempting to marry me off to you in order to keep the family succession on the throne.” You regard him coldly, meeting his gaze unblinkingly. “But of course, there wouldn’t be any truth to that, now would there?”

            “Not a hair,” Kole replies. “Now, I know you’re going to disagree with what I’m about to suggest, but I think that the only reason you have these notions about us is because of the company that you’ve been keeping lately. As you said yourself, the Resistance and the First Order are not friends, and they have very good reason not to want you to go through with this deal. They would lose a significant portion of funding, but is it really fair that Draboon is giving so much in that arrangement and getting so little? You help finance them, help them to gather equipment and build their ships and prolong a fight that we don’t even want to have with them, and what do you get in return but empty promises and blank assurances that they will come to your aid _if_ something might happen. And, let’s be honest, you know as well as I do that if there _was_ ever a direct attack of Draboon, that your planet would be too far gone by the time Princess Leia could even assemble a crew and make the jump to hyperspace. On the other hand, the First Order’s nearest patrol forces and old allies could respond to a call for aid within minutes, with additional... _support forces_ on the scene within an hour.”

            He had a point. You hated that he had a point, but he made it, and now that he had said his piece, you were starting to see the logic in why your mother had apparently made this deal to begin with. This seemed like a good thing for Draboon, and Kole himself did not seem like the monster that you had originally thought him to be. While Poe seemed more or less sure that he was nefarious and you yourself knew he might simply be charming now in order to win you over only to turn into a brute later, a part of you wasn’t sure what to believe. Most of the things you had heard about the First Order were rumor, and the only negative things that you had heard about them directly was from the Resistance, from their enemy. They had every reason to lie to you, to make you think that the First Order was a terrible monstrosity constructed from the mechanisms of the Empire that had to be stopped at whatever the cost, but what if that wasn’t necessarily true? You yourself weren’t sure what to make of them, but shouldn’t you keep an open mind and at least try and find out?

            “You’ve made your point,” you say with a firm nod of your head. “And I would like to hear what you have to say; I want you to be able to speak freely.” You turn around to face Poe. “Commander Dameron, will you please fall back to the ship? I would like to have this conversation free of any political entanglements, and it doesn’t appear that I will be able to gather the answers I need with you present.”

            “Your Highness,” Poe begins, and when he speaks, his voice is cautious. There’s something wary in his eyes, as if he is almost begging you not to do this. “If I may insist-”

            “You may not,” you snap harshly, and Poe’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting this. “This is between Draboon and the First Order, not the Resistance, and while I, as always, remain appreciative of your assistance and your instruction, I must ask that you please retire to the shuttle so that he may speak freely.”

            “As you wish, Your Highness,” Poe replies, but his voice is bitter, and he shoots a scathing look at Kole before he gestures for Jess to follow him back into the ship. Jess herself looks like she wants to argue, but follows Poe back onto the ship regardless, her shoulders squared and her jaw set.

            “Now,” you say as you turn back to Kole. “I believe you were saying something about the goals of the First Order and what they hope to accomplish? I would very much like to know what those happen to be.”

            Kole chuckles, and you try to conceal the flash of irritation that shoots through you. You wanted answers. That’s why you had come here. “All good things in time,” he replies simply. “Right now, I would like to learn more about you.”

            “Some would say that I’m an inquisitive person,” you reply evenly. “And others might even dare to call me impatient. When I ask questions, I like to receive _answers_ , Kole Praxton. I have just asked for my two escorts to wait on the ship so that you may speak freely, and yet it seems you have no intention of actually informing me of your true goals here.”

            “Not at the moment,” Kole replies, and you can’t help but roll your neck to one side. While you were aggravated that you were seemingly getting the run around, you were at least slightly impressed by his honesty. “There are still too many variables here, and I’m not sure I can trust you with that information yet. Surely you can understand; I doubt the Resistance is keeping you fully informed of their intentions, either.”

            “Actually,” you reply automatically, before you quickly shut your mouth. That was a trap, and you had almost let yourself walk straight into it. Telling him that you knew secrets about the Resistance would be risky from multiple perspectives. They may consider you a threat to them if they believed you to be actively working with the Resistance, or, on the other hand, they may think that you had information that they wanted and be willing to take you by force. Kole raises an eyebrow expectantly before you let your eyelids slip shut and let out a sigh, as if you had been defeated. “You’re right, they haven’t told me anything.”

            “Because they don’t trust you,” Kole continues. “As I said before, you are giving them so much and yet receiving so little in return. I can see why they wanted to make an alliance with them look as attractive as possible, but it only serves their best interests, not the best interests of our planet.”

            “My planet,” you say firmly. “It is my planet and it will remain that way until I can ascertain who can be trusted. You’ve made me a very attractive offer, Kole, and I need time now to consider everything that you’ve proposed. Despite what you may be inclined to think, I am _not_ favoring the Resistance over the First Order. I am simply listening to both sides and attempting to do what is best for my planet.”

            “You are right, of course,” Kole replies. “Draboon is your planet, and as such, I think it’s time that you returned home.”

            You had expected this, you had seen this coming, and yet you couldn’t help but feel a knot tighten in your chest regardless. “One thing that you should know about me, Kole Praxton, is that I like to keep my word,” you say as evenly as you can manage. “My time with the Resistance is not yet done; I haven’t learned all there is for me to learn. The deal was only for eight weeks, and I have such a short time left as it is, and so I see no reason to cut the remainder of my time there short.”

            “If you truly desire to learn the craft, the pilots in the First Order are inferior to no one,” Kole assures you, but you just shake your head.

            “Sienar craft controls differ vastly from the Incom galactic standard, and they’re highly visible to the Concordance arms control measures,” you tell him firmly. “I would rather excel at something that I am familiar navigating than practicing on ships that I would not ordinarily have in my disposal.”

            “Ah, yes, Commander Dameron has no doubt told you this,” Kole nods as if to confirm something to himself. “It seems you two have developed quite a friendship, haven’t you?”

            The hair on the back of your neck stands on end as you consider that Kole had also learned about the rumors between you and Poe. You weren’t sure how, but if there truly _was_ a traitor in the Resistance, surely they had passed that information along as well. Your eyes narrow as you stare him down, refusing to be the one to blink first. “Commander Dameron has been nothing but courteous and respectful to me from the moment that I’ve arrived,” you tell him firmly, keeping a dangerous edge to your voice. “He has taken the time out to train me when I’m sure he has much more important things to be tending to, and for that I am gratefully appreciative, but make no mistake, I am _not_ going to base the future of my planet on my sentiments towards one individual.”

            “That is good to hear,” Kole says as he extends a hand towards you. “But isn’t that all the more reason to come with us? Your mother misses you terribly, and I’m sure she would be grateful to have you home again.”

            “As I have previously stated, I will return home when I’m ready,” you say firmly as you take a step away from him. “I am pleased to have met you, Kole Praxton. You’ve given me a lot to consider today, and I will be sure to-”

            “I think you should come with us.” The threat in his voice is clear, and you can’t help but swallow the knot in your throat as you stare him down. You had no idea what lengths he would go to in order to take you with him, but you were not about to let yourself become a victim of your own terrible circumstances.

            “Thank you for the offer,” you say as you gesture back towards your ship. “But they’re inside waiting for me, and it would be bad form for me to simply dismiss them and send them home when they came all this way with the intention of bringing me back. Besides, I left most of my things with them, and I have to go back and get them.”

            “I’m sure one of your guards could go back with them and simply retrieve your belongings for you,” Kole replies. His eyes are burning into yours now, and you’re honestly not sure what you should do. You had brought this on yourself, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind about that, and you didn’t want to see Poe or Jess taking the fall or getting injured for something that you had done.

            “Garrett,” you say softly, keeping your eyes trained on Kole. You can see Garrett step up to your side, and you can feel your heart pounding in your ears as you form your next words. “Go back to the ship. Tell Commander Dameron that his services here are no longer required. Tell him that he can take off. I’m heading back to Draboon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was going to leave it as one giant chapter, but I got some feedback asking me to cut it in half, so now you've got a nice little cliffhanger to tide you over until next week (sorry!) Is our Reader really heading back to Draboon with Kole? Will Poe be forced to rescue his princess, or, because I hate the damsel in distress trope, will our princess end up saving herself? I guess you'll just have to wait and see! Until next week, cheers!!


	12. Chapter 12

            Garrett hesitates, but only for the briefest of moments. “Yes, Your Highness,” he says softly as he heads back towards the ship, and you can see Kole’s lips quirk upwards in a victorious smirk. You can feel your heart plummet in your chest, but you can clearly see that those soldiers had been deployed there for a reason, and you were not about to risk Poe and Jess being captured because you had been stupid enough to agree to this meeting.

            “For what it’s worth, you’re making the right decision,” Kole tells you. “No matter what they’ve told you, the Resistance is only out for themselves, no one else. They-” His voice cuts off and his expression suddenly hardens as you briefly glance behind you to see Poe and Jess heading back off the ship, with Garrett still on board.

            “What are you doing?” you demand loudly, almost too loudly for your own ears. Kole’s army was right there, and it would only take about twenty seconds for Kole to give the order to shoot to kill, and you didn’t want to be responsible for anyone’s death, let alone the deaths of your friends.

            “Well, if she’s really heading off, I think we deserve the opportunity to say goodbye, don’t we?” Poe asks as he heads towards you, walking as a brisk pace. Before you or Kole even have time to react, Poe quickly scoops you up into a one-armed hug that suddenly ends with him holding you with one arm around your chest, your back pressed flush into his front. Suddenly you can feel the tip of a blaster being pushed into your side, only visible to you and Kole, but still more or less hidden from the view of the cameras that were no doubt still recording this whole meeting.

            Kole looks from you to the blaster, before looking back at Poe with an expression of bewildered amusement playing across his features. “What kind of game are you trying to play here, Dameron?”

            “Well, I was inside the ship, so I have no idea what you’ve discussed,” Poe replies simply. “But if she’s agreed to go back with you, all I can think is that she must have made some deal to help the First Order, which makes her an enemy in my book, and is now a prisoner of the Resistance.”

            Kole puts his hands on both hips as he laughs, and you can’t help but burrow slightly back into the circle of Poe’s arm. “Tell me, how long did it take you to think of that one?” Kole asks as he raises one eyebrow. “We both know that you’re not going to hurt her.”

            “Is that a risk you want to take?” Poe asks, and you can’t help but shiver slightly as you let yourself consider that perhaps Poe wasn’t completely bluffing. He had no way of knowing what you had talked about with Kole, and after the cold way you had dismissed him earlier, perhaps he was willing to believe that you really were going to put everything else aside and strike up an alliance with the First Order.

            “My soldiers can have you both dead in an instant,” Kole tells you. “And we can strike you down before you even make it out of the atmosphere.”

            “Go ahead,” Poe tells him, tightening his hold on you as you involuntarily flinch. “The whole galaxy’s watching right now. What better way to demonstrate the might of the First Order than to strike us down, right here, right now?”

            To his credit, Kole mulls this over for a moment, and he appears to really be thinking about how best to proceed. Poe wasn’t bluffing. He was going to take you back to D’Qar, although now you weren’t quite sure if it was because he wanted to help, or because he viewed you as a threat. Surely you couldn’t have learned much about the First Order in the few minutes that you had spoken to Kole without Poe listening in, but even still, you couldn’t be sure.

            Fortunately, at least some of your trepidations are diminished somewhat as Poe bends down slightly to whisper in your ear, his lips brushing against your hair as he talks. “On my signal, run back to the ship.” You want to argue with him, want to tell him that this wasn’t his battle, but the words don’t come. Poe slowly pockets the blaster and releases his arm, and you quickly move around him and rush back to the boarding ramp where Jess is waiting. She pulls you into a brief hug that doesn’t last for more than a second before you quickly scoot around her, timidly watching the events that would no doubt transpire as you find her hand and squeeze it.

            “That’s what I thought,” Poe says firmly. “Don’t worry, we’ll give her back once we finish our interrogations. If we find out that she really doesn’t know anything, then she’s free to leave. In the meantime, I trust that we’ll be able to make it home okay? That is, of course, unless you want to take aim on a marked diplomatic transport that’s carrying the princess of a planet that, while decidedly neutral, still has a place in the Galactic Senate?”

            Kole purses his lips and narrows his eyes as he uncrosses and re-crosses his arms over his massive chest. “Do you really think you’ve won here today, Dameron?” he asks as he tilts his head to the side. “You do realize that this doesn’t change anything.”

            “Didn’t expect it to,” Poe replies evenly as he lets his shoulders rise and drop. He looks like he’s about to say something more when Kole takes a step forward and leans in, lowering his voice to say something that only Poe could hear. You watch his shoulders stiffen immediately, and as Kole settles back with a self-satisfied smirk, Poe’s arm twitches slightly, as if he’s about to punch him. But no, he keeps his cool, and just shakes his head as he turns back around.

            “We’re done here,” he tells Kole over one shoulder, and when he turns back to look at you, his expression is pure ice. You can feel your insides freeze as your eyes widen in surprise as you see Poe walking towards you with both of your guards following at his heels. Poe grabs your arm roughly, and the yelp that’s a mix of both surprise and pain is authentic as he literally drags you up the boarding ramp and into the shuttle. Behind you, your guards sprint up the boarding ramp as they draw their weapons, a silent warning to Poe that any threat against you would not be tolerated. Poe releases his hold on you as soon as you’re inside, and makes his way straight towards the pilot’s seat without saying one word to you.

          “Your Highness,” Toka begins, but you just wave him off. Jess shoots you a quick look of concern before she drops into the co-pilot’s chair and helps Poe with the start-up sequence, but their voices are quiet and subdued. You can feel your heart plummet as you slip back into your own seat, and Garrett returns to help you with your harness. “Your Highness,” he says quietly as he kneels down beside you. “Are you all right?”

            “Fine, Garrett,” you reply, but your voice is tired and quiet. You can see Poe partially glance over his shoulder to look in your direction, but it doesn’t last for more than a split second. Garrett just dips his head forward in understanding as he shoots you a look that says that you’ll talk about it later, although you couldn’t really say for sure that that was a conversation that you were interested in having.

            There’s a small beeping as BB-8 rolls forward and bumps your leg with his spherical round frame affectionately, commending you for your bravery. You smile in spite of yourself and let out a small bid of thanks as BB-8 quickly reconnects himself to the ship as it begins to rise into the air. You let out a brief sigh of relief as you begin to head away from the planet, refusing to look back until you rise into orbit.

            “Looks like we’re in the clear,” Jess announces finally, to everyone on board. “It doesn’t look like we’re being tracked, either, but we’re joining up with Snap and Karé to escort us back, just to be on the safe side.”

            “Sounds like a plan,” Poe replies, and he seems to be in a considerably better mood than he had when you had left, and you wonder if the way he had grabbed you so roughly in front of Kole had merely been a ploy to make him think that you really _were_ a prisoner of the Resistance. For some reason, your eyes flick upwards, and you can feel a pit drop into your stomach as you look up to see Poe looking directly at you. “You doing okay?”

            “Fine, I guess,” you reply, although your voice is hollow. Poe’s forehead puckers, but he offers nothing as he turns back around.

            “I almost couldn’t believe it when you told Poe off like that,” Jess chirps up brightly, and Poe turns to regard her. “I think you really sold it there, Princess.”

            “Yeah,” you reply, but your voice is still quiet, empty, as you still try to process everything that had occurred. Nevertheless, Jess doesn’t seem to notice.

            “So what did he say?” she asks excitedly. “What did he tell you about the First Order while we were on the ship?”

            “Uh, very little, actually,” you reply evenly, your tone perking up a little. “He didn’t trust me not to turn around and tell you, I guess, so he never actually told me anything besides the fact that the First Order was minutes away from Draboon. He was pretty adamant that I go back to Draboon with him, and you know how that turned out.”

            “So he didn’t tell you anything else?” Jess asks before dropping back in her seat. “Bummer.” You turn to Poe, but he’s since turned back to face front again, and his expression is giving nothing away.

            It was strange. Everything that Kole had said had made sense, cold, logical sense. Draboon did have more to gain by trusting the First Order over the Resistance, and besides bringing a small army with them and threatening to blast you out of the sky, which you were _pretty_ sure had been a vacant threat, they hadn’t really done anything that should cause you to be so suspicious of them. No, if anything, the first person who had told you to be wary of Kole was Poe himself, although you weren’t quite sure how much you could trust Poe now either. Some darker side of him was beginning to show through the cracks in his expression, and you weren’t sure if they had always been there or if you were only noticing them now.

            You look down at your arm, which still bore a slight red mark from your encounter. In the past twenty minutes, Poe had gone from being your friend to someone who held at a blaster against your side and then grabbed you hard enough to leave a mark. And yet, the strange thing was that you still trusted him more than you trusted Kole, although it was starting to seem that this was against your better judgement. You didn’t know why you still trusted Poe, or what elements of your instinct told you that it was safe to trust him, but you did all the same, at least for now. Kole wasn’t lying when he said that the First Order had much to offer Draboon, and yet that meant seemingly turning your back on the Resistance, and for whatever reason, you weren’t quite sure you were ready to take that step just yet. They hadn’t truly offered you anything, they hadn’t been all that responsive to your request for aid, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn your back on them. Was it because of Poe, or something else? You weren’t sure you had an answer.

            You almost want to break the silence to ask Poe if he was serious about what he had said before, if you were truly a prisoner of the Resistance, but you doubted it and you didn’t want to insult him by asking. No, if he knew you were entertaining such doubts, what would that say about you? About him? No, it would only serve to increase the notion that you were having doubts about the Resistance, and that wasn’t a line of questioning you wanted him to entertain. No, you didn’t want him to realize that you were beginning to doubt him, and while you had a sneaking suspicion as to just why that was, it wasn’t something that you wanted to entertain out loud just yet.

            The rest of the journey back to D’Qar continues in silence as no one dares to speak again. In truth, you were pretty sure that the silence was at least in part due to the fact that no one really had anything to say, as everyone silently reflected on what had just transpired during your meeting. That had been your first real brush with the First Order, with an organization that was quickly developing a seedy reputation throughout the galaxy, and you really weren’t sure how to feel about what had transpired. What you wanted right now, more than anything, was a nap. You could feel a pounding in your temple that only got louder as the seconds passed, and you knew that the stress of your encounter was clearly taking its toll on you.

            Entering D’Qar’s atmosphere again was a welcoming sight, even more so as you descended through the bright blue sky to land on the landing strip outside. It was a clear, crisp day, lit with bright streaks of warm sunshine from overhead, almost making what had transpired under Bothawui’s grey skies seem like something out of a bad dream. But no, it had happened, and as Poe lands and disengages the ship’s boarding ramp, you stand up and glance back at the cockpit, waiting for Poe to walk with you back inside as he so often did.

            Nevertheless, it’s a few moments before Poe looks up at you, and his eyes widen slightly in surprise, as if he wasn’t sure what you were waiting for, before he finally catches on. “Oh, you go ahead,” he says quickly as he gestures towards the boarding ramp with one hand. “Jess and I have some stuff to take care of with the ship, but you go ahead.”

            “Thank you, again,” you say, turning more to Jess than to Poe, and she casts a quick smile in your direction as she looks up at you from her seat in the cockpit.

            “Don’t sweat it,” she replies, and you dip your head forward slightly before you turn, refusing to meet Poe’s eyes, before you exit the ship. You walk into the base with your guards following behind you, but their footfalls are loud in the quiet hallway, and it’s doing nothing to erase the pounding against your temple.

            “Thank you for your assistance today,” you say quickly as you turn back to face them. “But I think I can make it to my room okay from here. You should all take a rest tonight, you’ve earned it.”

            “As you wish, Your Highness,” Jeoff says as they bow respectfully, and you dip your head courteously in return. He and Toka head off in the other direction towards their own quarters, but Garrett seems to hesitate before he starts down the hall after you.

            “Are you sure you’re all right?” Garrett asks, following along at your heels. “Forgive me for saying so, Your Highness, but you look, well, pale, and I’m concerned the day’s events are taking a toll on you.”

            “They are,” you reply simply. Garrett could see it, plain as day, and there was no need to lie, and yet Garrett seems somehow surprised by this admission. “Kole’s points are valid, and I can see the logic in such a decision, and yet I’m still not sure aligning with the First Order is the best way to proceed.”

            Garrett seems to consider what you’re saying for a moment as you begin to walk back to your room together. “I’m not sure I understand,” he admits at length. “Are you saying that you wished to go with him back to Draboon?”

            “I’m saying I’d be lying if the thought didn’t cross my mind,” you admit. “As much as I hate to admit it, and right now I _really_ hate to admit it, Kole did have a valid point. The First Order _can_ provide more for Draboon than the Resistance can-”

            “-but at what cost?” Garrett interjects suddenly. “Forgive me for saying so, Your Highness, but I think it would be dangerous accepting either party too readily. While the First Order may have more to offer, I’m highly suspicious of what they may want in return. Their occupation of Draboon may not begin with a hostile takeover of our planet, but that is where it may end if we’re not careful.”

            “Those are my concerns as well,” you admit with a sigh. “Although I have to admit that I may not have been entertaining them as much as I maybe should. I just keep thinking that I would be able to stop such a thing before it occurs, but if I proved anything today, it’s that I’m basically powerless in such a confrontation.”

            “You’re not powerless,” Garrett says as he shakes his head. “We had no idea that Kole was going to bring an entire army with him.”

            “An entire army,” you repeat, muttering the words under your breath. “As painful as this is to say, Garrett, I don’t think that was even a sizeable fraction of their army. No, I think we only got a small taste of what the First Order has to offer, and I think it’s unfortunate that we seem to have been caught in the middle of something I don’t think we’ll be able to get out of ourselves.”

            “Has the Resistance offered any more aid?” Garrett asks, but you just shake your head as you come to a slow stop outside your door.

            “That’s something I plan to discuss with Princess Leia at the earliest opportunity,” you tell him. “I’m going to give her some time to review the recording of what happened and allow her to draw her own conclusions before I approach her. I did tell Poe to back off, thus basically showing that the Resistance was to have no part in the conflict, but Poe _did_ come back to rescue me, probably against her orders.”

            “Can you trust him?” Garrett asks, watching your expression carefully, and you gnaw on your lower lip as you avert your gaze, tilting your head off to one side as you think.

            “Well,” you begin slowly. “I think I do, and that’s something, at any rate. He did save my life today, I think, but he went to great lengths to do it, and I’m not sure I would have agreed with his plan had I been briefed ahead of time that that was what he had intended to do.”

            Garrett tilts his head to the side, as he considers what you’re saying. “I don’t envy the choices that you have to make,” he admits at length. “These are difficult times, and you’ve shown an incredible amount of bravery throughout all of it.”              

            “Yeah,” you agree as you release a heavy exhale. “Believe me, I also wish that it didn’t have to be this way. I wish that the circumstances that we are faced with were different, but…” You let your voice trail off as you raise and drop your shoulders. “They’re not. Unfortunately, we have to make the best of what we have, and in this case, it means reaching out to help secure alliances with either the First Order or the Resistance and hope that one will help protect us from the other.” Garrett looks like he’s about to say more, but you hold up a hand to stop him. “It’s been a long day, Garrett. We can talk tomorrow. I think I would just like to get some rest now.”

            “Of course, Your Highness,” Garrett says with a polite bow. “Get some rest and please let me know if you need anything.”

            “No, you take the night off too,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand. “We all could have lost our lives today; I think that’s enough to say that you’ve earned a rest.”

            Garrett nods his head forward, and you quickly disappear behind your door before he could say anything more. Not that you had a problem with Garrett, but you didn’t want to hear any sort of cliché platitudes right now. You still couldn’t wrap your mind around what had happened today. It seemed like something that had happened out of a dream, or a terrible nightmare, and you didn’t really want to dwell on it any more than you had to.

            But you did have to. You knew that implicitly. You were going to have to replay this over and over again in your mind in order to figure out what it meant, to figure out what exactly the First Order wanted from you and your planet. There had to be something in your conversation with Kole that hinted at what he really wanted. If there wasn’t, then it only meant that he was being careful not to reveal that secret, in which case you had to think back to what he said closely and try to pick it apart word for word for anything that he _didn’t_ happen to bring up. You weren’t sure if Leia had recorded a purely visual feed or if it had captured at least some audio as well, but you hoped that she would transmit a copy for your own records, so that you could replay it over and over again in the hopes that you could figure out what you were missing.

            But for right now, you couldn’t dwell on it. You knew that you should, while the encounter was still fresh in your mind, but a part of you held back. For a moment, you really thought that you were going to end up being dragged back to Draboon by force, and you were only saved from that fate by Poe holding a blaster into your side. Shaking your head, you quickly discarded your clothes and stepped into the shower as you let the warm water pour over you, hoping to scrub at least some of the discomfort of the day’s events from your skin, as if it clung to you like a thin film.

            Honestly, you weren’t even sure why you had gone ahead with this. It was a stupid plan, stupider, yet, considering that you had endangered not only your life, but the lives of your security detailing as well. And, of course, the lives of Poe and Jess. And BB-8, too, if you counted him to be alive. He was a droid, but he was still a sentient being with thoughts and feelings, and he could have been dismantled and sold for spare parts if he had been captured. Of course, that probably would come _after_ the First Order took his memory banks so they could see what the Resistance was really up to, but that wasn’t something that you truly wanted to dwell on. You already knew that you had screwed up, and you didn’t want to have to keep reminding yourself of that fact.

            No, what you wanted to do now was _sleep_ , and you slowly, reluctantly, pull yourself into your nightie before you plop yourself down on your stomach, lying across the width of the bed, still wishing that your headache would go away. You needed rest, you needed sleep, you knew that, and yet for some reason you felt as though you couldn’t go to bed, not just yet. You still felt like you had things to do, and while you couldn’t exactly be sure what _things_ these were, you still felt strangely, well, _active_ , in a way that you couldn’t quite describe. That was why you didn’t really mind so much as you heard a knock on the door and you quickly got up to see who wanted your attention now. You figured it was Garrett, it had to be Garrett…

            But it wasn’t.

            It was Poe.

            His forehead is creased, and he’s still wearing the same clothes which tells you that he probably came straight from the ship; either that, or straight from his debriefing with Leia, which was probably the case. His eyes widen slightly as he glances up and down quickly, and you feel a flush rising to the tops of your cheeks as you step slightly behind the door in a weak attempt to preserve your modesty. “Sorry,” Poe says quickly as he glances away. “Sorry, if this is a bad time, I can-”

            “No,” you say quickly, pulling your hair over one shoulder. “No, sorry, I just got out of the shower, but you can-”

            “No, I-”

            “Poe,” you say firmly, and his eyes immediately flick to your face as you gesture with one hand. “You’re here, you have something to say, just spit it out.”

            Poe just sighs and leans back slightly so he can glance down the hallway, as if to make sure that he wasn’t being followed. “For what I have to say, I think I should come inside.”

            You nod your head as you gesture for him to come in, and Poe enters quickly, looking just as uncomfortable as you feel. You want to offer him a seat, but he looks to be filled with the same kind of nervous, anxious energy that you’re struggling to control as well, and so you just cross your arms over your chest as you wait for him to proceed. “So, what is it? What have you come to tell me?”

            “First, I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Poe says, and you can’t help but dip your head forward. If everyone was going to start treating you like glass, you weren’t going to be seen as a very effective leader. Poe seems to sense this, as he quickly rephrases his question. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you that hard. I didn’t want to scare you, but-”

            “No, it’s fine,” you say quickly, waving your hand dismissively before crossing your arms over your chest again. “I mean, I know why you did it. It was some pretty quick thinking, and it worked, so, that’s good news, right?”

            “You sure?” Poe asks, and you can’t help but notice that he looks a bit skeptical. “You looked pretty, I don’t know-”

            “-freaked?” you finish for him, and Poe tilts his head to the side in consideration, as if he wasn’t sure that he would agree with that choice of words. “I mean, I had to, didn’t I? I had to make it look authentic?”

            “Fair enough,” Poe relents quickly as he holds up both hands.

            “But you didn’t come here just to make sure I’m okay,” you counter suddenly as you narrow your eyes skeptically. “You want something more out of me, don’t you? Leia sent you here to ask about what Kole told me, didn’t she?”

            “No,” Poe says, shaking his head from side to side, but there’s something else in his expression and you’re not sure if he was lying to you. You didn’t _think_ he would lie directly to your face, but then again, you couldn’t exactly be sure of much right now when you weren’t even sure he was bluffing when he told Kole that he was taking you prisoner. “But if you want to talk about what he said-”

            You let out an incredulous laugh as you shake your head back and forth, but to his credit, Poe says nothing as he waits for you to make up your mind. “He didn’t tell me anything, nothing important, at least,” you say with finality as you square your shoulders. “I mean it. I asked, but he didn’t trust me not to turn around and tell you everything. All he said is that the First Order was minutes away from Draboon, but so are many other planets via hyperspace.” Poe nods, as though he had suspected as much, but you gnaw on your lower lip nervously. “He did warn me, though.” This captures Poe’s interest as he raises his eyebrows expectantly. “He warned me not to trust you, not to trust the Resistance. He knows that you guys haven’t exactly been forthcoming with information about what you’re up to either.”

            Poe’s mouth opens and closes, and he seems to seriously be considering how to answer this accusation. “There’s things-” he begins, but you just wave his words away.

            “You don’t have to defend yourself to me,” you tell him idly. “I know Kole only stands to benefit by trying to turn me against you, but that’s a decision I have to make on my own.” Poe looks like he still wants to speak, but you don’t give him a chance. “You could tell me, though, what Kole said to you right before we left. I didn’t quite catch what he said.”

            “It’s not worth repeating,” Poe says quickly, a little _too_ quickly, and you can’t help but let out a sigh as you decide to drop that line of questioning.

            “Okay, well,” you say, gesturing out into the space in front of you again. “What’s done is done. We’ve met with the First Order, and now I know what sort of shit I’m heading into when I eventually head back to Draboon. I don’t think they’re going to kill me, so I should try to find some sort of comfort in that, but I just, I don’t know.”

            “You’re not going back just yet,” Poe reminds you. “So you’ll have plenty of time to think about that later. Right now I think you have bigger things to worry about.”

            You can’t hold back the noise of malcontent that surfaces in the back of your throat. “Bigger things?” you echo. “What’s happened now, Poe?”

            To his credit, Poe doesn’t make you play the guessing game or hold anything back from you. He tells you what you want to know, and when he speaks again, his voice is clear. “I pulled a weapon on you,” he reminds you. “And none of your guards actually tried to take me down. There was the welcoming party on the shuttle, but that cleared up _too_ quickly. After all that, _none of those three_ are outside your room right now, and the one guard just waved me by.”

            You know you had given them the night off, but even still, you can’t deny that Poe had a point. Your head tilts to the side in consideration as you purse your lips together in a scowl. Garrett had been on the ship, and Jeoff and Toka had been slightly behind you so that you couldn’t see what exactly they _were_ doing. “Maybe they didn’t see the blaster,” you offer. “I mean, you were pretty discreet to hide it from the recording, right? Maybe they didn’t notice it either.” Poe jerks one shoulder up uncomfortably in a half-hearted shrug. “Okay, even if they did, they probably knew it was a ruse. I did say that I didn’t want to go back to Draboon, no matter what the cost.”

            “Maybe,” Poe offers, but he doesn’t sound so sure. “Look, I don’t know what it means, if it means anything. I just think you should keep your guard up, stay safe.”

            In the back of your mind, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Poe was trying to increase your distrust of your guards so that you’d have no one to turn to but him and the Resistance. Were these the sort of mind games that he was playing with you? Or was he someone who was legitimately looking out for your best interests? You weren’t sure, and you could honestly say that you absolutely _hated_ that you weren’t sure. You were no longer certain who you could trust, which meant only one thing. You’d have to play this game with your cards kept close to your chest. You’d have to constantly remain alert and vigilant of what you said to anyone, constantly aware of how your words could be perceived.     

            It seemed like an exhausting task, but as the future Queen of Draboon, it seemed like it was your burden to bear. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” you say with finality, and Poe nods his head.

            “You’ve had a long day,” Poe says as he heads back towards the door. “You should get some sleep. If you need anything, be sure to let me know, okay?”

            “I will,” you reply, and as Poe bids you good night and shuts the door behind him, you’re almost surprised to realize that you meant it.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys. We're finally heading into the closing chapters!! For those of you who have been anxiously waiting for the smut, thanks for hanging in there!! You're going to be satisfied very soon. ;)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is my birthday so I'm posting this chapter super early so I can head out later...you guys don't mind though, do you? ;) I'm really excited though, this is one of my favorite chapters. I hope you enjoy it!

            “I have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about.”

            All eyes are on you, and you are very, very thankful that Poe isn’t saying anything as he tilts his chin down to study the laces on his boots. You’re standing in a small conference room with Poe, Princess Leia, and, attending by hologram, your mother, who wasn’t happy to hear what transpired during your meeting with the First Order.

            “Don’t you?” your mother asks, and you can’t help but let your own gaze drop as well. All pleasantries had been dropped, and your mother was pulling no punches. “Kole told us that you were taken prisoner by the Resistance after you agreed to go back to Draboon with him.”

            “And, like I said, I have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about,” you reply firmly as you shake your head. You stare straight into the hologram, your expression not changing, your gaze unwavering, trying to keep your features as composed as possible while Leia gnaws on her lower lip beside you, arms crossed over her chest, watching you intently.

            “Then where did he get that impression?” your mother demands, but you just shake your head as you spread your hands to the side, as if you had no idea where the thought could have possibly come from. “Oh no? He also got the impression that Commander Dameron held a blaster to your side and forcibly escorted you back to the Resistance. Is this something that he seems to have mistaken also?”

            You can’t help it. You let out an incredulous snicker as a smirk pulls at the corner of your lips, but this time, it’s Leia who startles you as she hits her hand down hard on the table beside her, causing you to jump. “What part of this do you deem funny?” she demands. “Commander Dameron and Jessika Pava had strict orders to stay _out_ of your affairs with the First Order. If he did anything to jeopardize the cautious neutrality that we currently have, I need to know of it.”

            “No,” you say quickly as you shake your head from side to side, glancing between her and your mother. “No, you have seen the recording, haven’t you? You can see clearly what happened.”

            “It was a good distance away,” Leia says, her voice dark as she narrows her eyes, and Poe quickly steps up to come to your defense.

            “Queen Lyri, I can swear that I would _never_ bring harm to your daughter in any way,” he says firmly, although his eyes are large and earnest. “I don’t know why Kole would bring these accusations against us, but-”

            “Then, why, in your opinion, did he make them, Commander Dameron?” your mother asks, and you can’t help but take the time to study the laces of your own boots this time.

            To his credit, Poe looks back at you, and seems to hesitate before speaking again. “I don’t believe it’s my place to say,” he says at length, and you can’t help but sigh as you step forward again.

            “I didn’t want to go back with him,” you say as you step forward. “I’m sorry, but my training here isn’t done yet. He got insistent and it made me uncomfortable.” You pout up at her, hoping for some sympathy, but it’s clearly not working.

            Your mother stares you down for a moment, perhaps choosing the right words to say. “You know the situation we’re in,” she says firmly, and you can’t help but dip your gaze. Yes, you knew. Of course you knew. To be honest, you almost felt as though you had a better idea of what was truly going on than your mother did, but you lacked experience which would lead you to make the decisions that truly needed to be made. You weren’t Queen of Draboon yet, and if not for your pending alliance with the First Order, you doubted your mother would have declared you suitable for the throne just yet.

            “I know,” you say quietly as you dip your gaze, but it does nothing to alleviate your mother’s mood.

            “We’ll talk further tonight,” she continues, her voice harder than ever. “There are some _things_ I would like to say to you, but I don’t think you would like an audience to hear them.” A blush just barely graces the tips of your cheeks, and Poe glances at you out of the corner of your eye. You open and close your mouth, but no sound comes out, and you had nothing to say in your defense. You didn’t want your mother to ridicule you, definitely not in front of Poe of all people, but maybe it was good that you would have a chance to talk to her privately. Maybe if you gave her the benefit of the doubt, maybe if you explained what you were going through, maybe she would understand. Maybe she’d be able to help. Maybe you didn’t have to feel so alone in this after all.

            Leia steps back into the view of the holo, and you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief as she signals that this conversation is about to come to an end. If they had been old friends before, there was no trace of it now, as each one appraises the other coldly. Words had been traded between them before you were invited into the room to have your say, and you doubted that Draboon and the Resistance were still on friendly terms, at least, under your mother’s rule.

            “Queen Lyri.”

            “Princess Leia.”

            With that, the translucent form of your mother disappears, and you let your shoulders slump as you let out a quiet sigh of relief. Your respite is short, however, as Leia turns around to give you a look that is pure ice. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” she says coldly, and your shoulders straighten up again as you turn to address her directly.

            “You don’t have to tell me twice,” you repeat as you draw your hands into fists by your sides. “I could have lost my life yesterday, and I very well may before this is over. In fact, I think I’m almost counting on it.”

            You would give anything to take the look of shock and alarm off of Poe’s face, but there’s nothing you can do about it. The truth was that if he hadn’t stepped in, you probably would have been forced back to Draboon, and you weren’t quite sure what would have happened from there. Even if you had cooperated with Kole, nothing was certain, and your future was certainly not guaranteed. As Garrett had said last night, the First Order had to want something more from you and your planet, although you were at a loss as to what that could possibly be.

            “Well, you’re not going to be able to help your planet with that mindset,” Leia says as she scowls at you, uncrossing her arms over her chest before she crosses them again.

            “I’m trying to be realistic,” you tell her firmly, standing your ground. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I thought meeting with the First Order was a good idea, but now I think it might have just put a target on my back, and-” You turn back to Poe. “-while you may have just saved my life, I’m not sure what you did really helped.”

            “No, I don’t think it did,” Leia agrees with a sigh as she lowers her arms again. “But that’s what this is. You take a risk, and sometimes it pays off. Most times it doesn’t, but that’s just something you need to deal with.”

            “And I will,” you agree as you nod your head forward. “I have two weeks left here, and I don’t know what I can do in that time, but hopefully some solution will make itself known to me. Until then, I guess I’ll just have to be as patient as I can be, considering the circumstances.”

            “Trust in the Force,” Leia advises. You had never put much faith in the Force controlling your destiny, and you weren’t about to trust something that you could neither see nor feel now. No, that could lead to dangerous consequences, and you were not going to let yourself fall victim to whatever fate awaited you by simply trusting in some unknown power to help you. If you were going to fall, you wanted it to be because you had become a victim of either circumstance or your own bad decisions; at least that way, you knew that you had at least some small choice in whatever fate awaited you.

            “I need to speak to Poe about something,” Leia continues as she turns to Poe. “Will you please wait outside? It won’t take more than a minute.”

            “Sure thing,” you reply as you dip your head forward and turn to exit the room, letting the door slide itself shut behind you as you cross your arms over your chest and slump against the opposite wall. You didn’t know what to do, you really didn’t. Reaching out to your mother for support seemed like the best alternative you had waiting for you, as much as you hated to admit it, and you _really_ hated to admit it. Your mother had never been there for you in the past, not when you were growing up, not when you really needed her to be, but maybe if she wouldn’t be there for you, she would be there for her planet. To be fair, you had to admit that society hadn’t collapsed under her rule, and she may just have the ability to save Draboon from this seemingly insurmountable situation.

            You’re shaken from your thoughts by the sound of heavy footfalls coming towards you, and you look up just in time to see Garrett making his way towards you. “Garrett,” you say quickly as you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “What’s going on? You look troubled.”

            “I think we should talk,” Garrett says quietly, and your forehead creases in confusion.

            “What is this about?” you ask quickly. “Is this about what happened yesterday on Bothawui?”

            “Sort of,” Garrett begins, but he’s stammering over his words and it suddenly occurs to you that this is the first time that you’ve ever seen him look this nervous. Whatever he’s concerned about, it’s clearly something that’s bothering him greatly, and you can’t erase the frown that’s pressed into your delicate features as you wait patiently for him to recover himself and explain what’s going on. He opens his mouth again before he stops and glances back down the hallway behind him, as if he’s concerned about being overheard.

            “Garrett,” you begin hesitantly as you put a hand on his arm, and at that moment the door opens as Poe walks out, quirking an eyebrow as he looks from Garrett to you. As the door opens, Garrett quickly straightens up and his face hardens, as if he’s come to a sudden decision about something. “Garrett, it’s okay, you can trust him. Please, just tell me what’s going on. What are you so concerned over?”

            “It’s nothing, Your Highness,” Garrett says, although you can’t ignore the evasive edge in his tone. “We can talk tonight. Please, don’t let me keep you from your lesson.” He nods his head briefly towards Poe as he turns and walks back the way he came, but his gait is stiff, and it’s all you can do not to run after him.

            “What’s wrong with him?” Poe asks as he glances back towards you, but you just shake your head from side to side.

            “I’m not sure,” you repeat as you stare after him. Garrett had seemed more concerned than you had ever seen him, but you couldn’t be sure of what was wrong. Nevertheless, you shake your head as you try to clear it from your mind. If Garrett thought that it could wait until tonight, then surely you weren’t in any imminent danger, and that was what you cared about right now as you look up at Poe. “You ready to go?”

            “Yeah,” Poe replies as he dips his head forward, gesturing down the hallway as the two of you start to walk side by side towards the hangar.

            “So, am I allowed to ask what that was about?” you ask as you glance up at him out of the corner of your eye. “Or is this something that you’re not allowed to tell me?”

            “To be honest, I’m not quite sure,” Poe tells you, and you can’t help but puff out your lower lip as you tilt you head to the side in consideration. “She wasn’t real happy that I stuck my neck out for you, I can tell you that much.”

            “Well, if it makes a difference, I’m glad you did it,” you say as you offer a quick smile in his direction, and it’s one that Poe happily returns. “Although, to be fair, I’m not thrilled that you did it either. You risked your life for me, and if anything had happened to you-”

            “Nothing was going to happen to me,” Poe says as he shakes his head from side to side. “I hate to say it, but Kole’s smarter than that. He knew we were watching him, and taking me down would be playing right into our hands.”

            “Just, can you try not to do it again?” you ask tentatively as you glance up at him. “I mean, I only have roughly two weeks left here, and I don’t want to have to cut our lessons short because something happened to you.”

            “Believe it or not, I’ve been in much worse situations than that,” Poe teases, but stops when he sees the look on your face. “But I have no intention of skipping out in the next two weeks, and you’re safe with me, so you have nothing to worry about.”

            “Let’s hope,” you reply with a light smile.

            “Now,” Poe repeats as he nods his head forward. “Since you only have two weeks left, let’s perform an _actual_ hyperspace jump before we start your fighter training.”

            “Could we do it in an X-Wing?” you ask eagerly. “Mine or yours?”

            Poe grins before shaking his head. “I wish, but neither is ready at the moment. We’ll use the undercover shuttle.”

            “Undercover?” You follow Poe’s nod to a shuttle that looked exactly like the one you had been flying all along. “I don’t see what makes it undercover.”

            “The identification codes have been scrubbed. Now, it identifies as a Rylothian spice hauler, perfect for where we’re headed: Kabal. No one will notice our arrival, nor will anyone suspect our departure.”

            You don’t know much about Kabal beyond the fact that it was a smugglers’ haven far from the reach of Republic law enforcement. “Should I go get my armor for this?”

            Poe shakes his head. “You won’t need it for this, since we’re not even breaking atmosphere. We’re just jumping in, then jumping right back.”

            “Okay then,” you say as you smile up at him. “Lead the way.”

            You and Poe go over the startup checks and quickly leave the hangar, headed for the depths of space.

            Once you’re above D’Qar’s atmosphere, you begin calculating the jump while Poe checks over the hyperdrive. You finish putting in the last vector just as he checks off the last thing on his list and looks over at you. “Ready?”

            “Definitely.”

            You line up the shuttle with your destination track, watching the navicomputer closely. Once it signals green, you reach for the hyperdrive handle, but before you pull it, you look at Poe for reassurance, just in case there was anything you missed. He’s double-checking your work, and after a few seconds, he looks up at you and nods.

_Here goes nothing._

            You pull back firmly on the lever, watching as the dots of the stars outside stretch into long lines radiating from a single point before resolving into the blue swirl of hyperspace.

            “I’m not dreaming, am I? We’re actually doing this?”

            Poe just motions to the window and sits back, enjoying the view. It was something, to be sure; the simulator definitely didn’t do it justice. As the stars flash by, a sudden thought hits you.

            “Is it possible to see someone coming through hyperspace?”

            Poe makes a confused sound before answering. “Not really, no. Why? Worried someone’s waiting for us on the other end?”

            You shake your head. “No, it’s not that. I was thinking about what Kole said while you were gone. He said First Order fighters were only minutes away from Draboon at all times, and that nothing less than an army could be deployed on the ground within an hour. How do you stop something like that with no warning?”

            Poe suddenly sits upright. “Wait. He said that? An army? He used those exact words?”

            “No, he didn’t say it in so many words. He implied it, and his exact words were ‘old allies and _support forces,_ ’ whatever that was supposed to mean. Those troopships didn’t look like they were very heavily armored, I’m sure we could blast them out of the sky, but Arceus only has so many cannons, and the X-Wings aren’t ready yet. There’s so much preparation to be done, and no time to do it.”

            Poe looks at you like you had missed something and you shake your head to indicate your confusion. “What is it?”

            “Old allies. Remember what I found when I chased the _Yissira Zyde_? A First Order Star Battlecruiser. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but Imperial Star Destroyers were once called the Emperor’s Best Friends. As long as the Imperial Fleet had its Star Destroyers, the Empire didn’t _need_ allies. That’s why they fought so hard to keep the Kuat Drive Yards during the war. If Kole meant what I think he meant, fighters and cannons won’t be enough. You’d need an entire _fleet_ to hold off just one battlecruiser, let alone two or more. Someone as important as Kole wouldn’t arrive in humility. He’d arrive to the wedding with an escort befitting someone of his rank, say, two battlecruisers loaded with a full expeditionary complement. As far as everyone knew, they would simply be there to provide a demonstration of the might that Draboon was marrying into, but their real purpose would be to annex the entire Mandalorian Legacy. They wouldn’t need to resort to force if they had you and the specter of the First Order fleet to convince the other planets of the bloc to submit to their will.”

            You sigh as you shake your head. “So is there even anything I can do to save Draboon?”

            “I don’t know,” Poe admits. “First we need to know _why_ the First Order wants Draboon. Then...wait.”

            Outside, the blue swirl of hyperspace has suddenly given way to a sea of stars, and the shuttle feels like its tumbling. This wasn’t right. According to the navicomputer, there were still twenty-five minutes to go before you reached Kabal. In the distance, you can see an icy planet, far from its system’s central star. While Poe rights the shuttle, you quickly pull up the map to figure out where you are in the galaxy. It only takes you a few moments to realize that you’re in the Sharlissia system, but unfortunately, it doesn’t tell you much.

 _Sharlissia:_  
            Planets: 1  
            Sentient Population: 10M (appx.)  
            Dominant Species: Indigenous, unknown  
            Government Membership: Unknown

_Date of Last Charting: 3679 Rakatan Standard_

            “Great. That tells us nothing,” Poe says bitterly. “Let’s get out of here.”

            You go for the hyperdrive lever and pull it back, but nothing happens. That was weird. You try it again, but the navicomputer simply flashes the red words _Proximity Warning: Motivator Disabled._ You double-check the sensors, but besides the icy planet, you can’t see any other large rocky bodies that would trip the hyperdrive gravity warnings.

            Poe spots it just seconds before you do. “There.”

            You follow his finger and spot it, a dark gray orb that you would have missed if you weren’t looking for it.

            “It’s called a cynosure. It draws all nearby hyperspace traffic to it, and keeps them from leaving. It’s also illegal in every sector of the Republic.”

            You continue searching the field of stars, and this time you spot the threat before Poe, pointing out two incoming ships just before their green laser blasts streak past your shuttle’s nose. No words need to be spoken as you and Poe both move to take evasive action, but the controls fight you, violently wrenching against every attempt to direct the shuttle away from the planet.

            “Don’t let go!” Poe shouts, and he picks up the comlink. “Mayday! Mayday! This is shuttle Echo-Six-Seven-Three-One-Alpha-Zero, under pirate attack in the Sharlissia system, requesting aid from any friendly pilots.” Poe pushes a button on the comlink, and you hear his voice faintly repeating itself over the comlink, a looped distress call. He turns back to you. “Keep fighting it, get us under control,” he says, as he flips the emergency power switches at his panel.

            “I’m trying,” you grunt as the controls vibrate wildly in your hands. You know Poe had told you not to release your grip, ever, but you couldn’t help it. It was gyrating so hard that you could feel it vibrating into the bones in your wrists, and you had to let go.

            “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Poe says quickly as he quickly tries to take over, but you notice that his controls aren’t responding either. He presses a few buttons on the console beside him before he continues to try to move the controls, but to no avail. “Come on, come on.”

            “I didn’t do anything,” you blurt out stupidly, and Poe quickly shoots you a look to tell you that you are _not_ helping your situation. “Did I?”

            “No,” Poe responds quickly as he swipes through something on the panel in front of him. “No, there’s no way you could have done this. They’re trying to force us to the cynosure for some reason, and it feels like a control hack. They wouldn’t have fired on us if it was a tractor beam. They’re also jamming our comms so we can’t report back. The planet will give us an advantage, so it looks like we’ll have to set her down the hard way. ”

            “But doesn’t that mean slicing the ship controls...” you start nervously, but Poe’s silence confirms your worst fears. He was going to crash the ship, and you didn’t know what that meant for the odds of your survival, only that they seemed slimmer by the second as you could see the two ships coming towards you from out of the vastness of space. You briefly entertain the notion that someone from the Resistance was responding to Poe’s calls for aid, but luck, it seemed, was not on your side.

            “Uh, Poe?”

            “Yeah?”

            “The Resistance isn’t coming, are they?”

            “Most definitely not.” Poe looks up at the two approaching vessels and the large hexagon symbols inset with a spiked wheel painted on their sides. The same symbol you had seen on Kole’s ships. “Oh no,” he murmurs under his breath as he shakes his head from side to side. “Oh no, that’s not good.”

            “No,” you repeat blankly, but your jaw’s since gone slack and you have difficulty finding the words. You were going to die now, you were sure of it.

            “Hey, we’re going to be okay,” Poe says, reaching over to give your arm a reassuring squeeze. “But I’m going to need you to help me bring her down. Think you can help me with that, Princess?”

            You blink as you suddenly look over at Poe, struggling to come back to yourself. “Yes,” you manage at length, nodding your head forward a few times. “Yes, Poe, I can, uh, I can do that. Just tell me what you need me to do and I’ll do it.”

            “That’s my girl,” Poe replies, and you can’t help but let a blush rise to the tops of your cheeks. You had no idea if that had been his intention or not, to snap you back to yourself, but you had to admit that it had worked, and you quickly tucked your hair behind your ears as you sat straight up in your chair, stretching out your shoulders as you let your hands hover over the controls.

            “Okay, Poe Dameron,” you say firmly as you glance over at him. “What do you need me to do?”

            “At this point, the hyperdrive is _not_ an option, and we don’t have the firepower to get free of those gunships, so we’ll bypass the flight computer through the hyperdrive to get control back. You wanted an emergency practical, this is it. Did Jess teach you to splice wire?” You nod. “Good. Go to the hyperdrive core and disconnect its computer cables. Once you get them, splice the ends with _these.”_ He grunts loudly as he literally rips the navicomputer out of the flight console. He’s pointing to two bundles of cables sticking out of the sparking console, and you notice that the controls no longer seem to be responding to whatever remote commands were being broadcast from the cynosure.

            “Is that it? Do we have control now?”

            “Not until you rig the hyperdrive computer. Move!”

            You didn’t need to be told a third time. You hop in the back and lift the panel, tracing the wires leading to and from the hyperdrive core and find the two bundles of computer cabling, yanking them from their jacks. You carefully pull out on the cables, trying to free as much length as possible without damaging the cables. They just barely reach to the flight console, and Poe begins matching the ends of similar-colored wires on one bundle while you do the same on the other. Outside, you see the two gunships turn around, probably to investigate the sudden loss of control over your shuttle.

            “Poe? They’re coming back.”

            “I see them. Stay focused. Got it. Shields, now!” You and Poe finish slicing your bundles at the same time, and as you hear the ship humming back to life, you lunge for the shield controls and throw all switches to _maximum_ , just as the gunships open fire. In the distance, you see a faint flash as a new ship materializes from hyperspace.

            You recognized that ship.

            It was a Draboonian prowler, but that was impossible. Draboon had no trade routes to this sector of the galaxy, so there was no reason for it to be so far from home. Unless…

            “Poe! That’s a Draboonian prowler. We have to get clear of it. Now! I’ll take the arrays if you get the thrusters. We stand a better chance against it in atmosphere. Out here, we’re sitting ducks against the tractor arrays.”

            “Right on it, Princess.” Both you and Poe work together to push the shuttle to its maximum speed towards the planet, but it doesn’t seem to be enough. All three ships are slowly closing in on your underpowered shuttle, and you could only hope you made atmosphere before they caught up.

            “Hey!” Poe suddenly seems to clue into what you had realized as he turns to look at you, a clear expression of fear crossing over his features. “What’s a prowler doing all the way out here? How do they even know we’re here? And why are they flying with First Order gunships?”

            Suddenly you realize you had seen something that didn’t belong during the disassembly of the hyperdrive: a chip set into the hyperdrive cover panel. Without saying anything, you scramble back to the panel as quickly as you can. It’s now pulsing with a red light that hadn’t been there before. You quickly rip it out and bring it up to show Poe.

            “We’re being tracked! It must have activated as soon as we fell out of hyperspace. It’s, uh, Draboonian in make...” You look up at him nervously. He doesn’t need you to confirm what both of you already know.

            Someone on your team had betrayed you.

            Poe just makes what sounds like a low growl as he focuses on the looming mountains of the planet approaching during your steep dive, green bolts streaking past all the while. He motions with his head towards the back of the shuttle again.

            “I have an idea! In the back, there’s an emergency concussion mine. Pull it out of the crate and prepare to roll it off the ramp.”

            You find the crate stamped with warnings, and pull out a small, heavy cylinder stamped with numbers and symbols. The only printing you understand is _Mine, Concussion. Standard yield._

            “That’s it,” Poe yells back as he sees the crate. “I’m going to funnel them into a mountain pass I see ahead, so deploy the ramp and stand by to roll it off on my mark. They go off three seconds after being dropped, so as soon as you roll it off, grab onto something sturdy, and whatever you do, _don’t look at the flash_.”

            You carefully set the cylinder down and roll it towards the top of the ramp, holding it in one place with your foot. As you unlatch the ramp, the cold air and snow from the outside begins to whip inside. Through the opening, you can see the three ships descending in the distance to chase you, slowly moving closer together as they prepare to pursue you through the mountain pass. Under you, you feel the shuttle suddenly lurch down then back up as Poe shouts. “Now!”

            You let go of the mine and watch as it rolls off the ramp and into the wind, silently counting down from three as you grab hold of a cargo ring. At _zero_ , there’s a blinding flash outside and the unmistakable shrieking sound of twisted metal. Flaming, wrecked metal, heading straight for you.

            You quickly scamper back to your seat as you strap yourself in, and without even realizing what you’re doing, you find Poe’s hand and grab onto it as tightly as you can as you screw your eyes shut.

            You can hear Poe telling you to hold on before you hear a deafening screech, and then a sharp burst of pain, as your vision faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to the sabotage from someone from Draboon, Poe and Reader have now crashlanded on a foreign planet. On the run from the First Order and unable to call for help from the Resistance, they'll have to rely only on each other to survive...wonder how that's going to play out. ;)


	14. Chapter 14

            Noises. Lights. Colors. A high-pitched whine in your ear that didn’t seem to be going away any time soon. It looked almost as though someone had placed a thin film in front of your eyes, and all the shapes across your field of vision were blurry and obscured, just random patches of colors that didn’t make any sense to your foggy mind, at least, not right now. For a moment, you couldn’t remember where you were or what had happened to you.

            You knew you were on Draboon.

            _No._

            You knew you were on D’Qar.

             _No._

You knew you were with Poe…

            The name strikes something within you as you sit straight up, trying to ignore the jolt of pain that ran through the side of your neck and down your spine as you glance over to the empty seat beside you. Poe was not there, and for a moment you’re concerned that he had just gotten up and left you, just abandoned you there in the middle of some foreign planet on a broken ship, when your ears can just make out the sounds of blaster fire being exchanged somewhere close by.

            It doesn’t seem wise to venture outside the ship, but then again, it doesn’t exactly make sense to stay, either, not when you didn’t know how close the attackers were to your location. Slowly, you unbuckle your harness as you try to stand up, but your legs aren’t working and it doesn’t take you more than a moment to realize why. The ship had really crashed, and while you weren’t savvy enough in mechanics to be able to ascertain just how badly, you knew that the ship should _not_ be tilted on its side the way it was. Slowly, using your hands and arms for support, you stand up on the side of your seat and slowly manage to climb around it. Loose pieces of equipment and panels that had been somehow knocked loose during the crash are strewn around the floor, and you quickly pick your way around them until you manage to find your way to the boarding ramp. At first you think that Poe has left it ajar for you to get out if you needed to, before you realize that the ship had crashed in such a way that it had actually wrenched the boarding ramp loose, and it was now hanging down at a steep angle that made it look particularly precarious to descend.

            But it wasn’t as though you had much of a choice, and you quickly squared your nerves before you used your hands to brace yourself on whatever you could touch as you slowly made you way down the boarding ramp. It had become more and more twisted by the time that you got to the bottom, and so you quickly slipped onto your butt and used your hands to just scoot yourself off so that you could just drop the remaining three feet to the ground. Your legs must have been at least slightly impacted from the fall, as your ankles refused to support you and you crashed painfully down on your knees on the firm ground outside. It looked as though you were in some kind of a forest, and you were almost pleased to see lush vegetation and tall trees all around you, though the air was rather cold. If nothing else, the area made an excellent hiding spot for anyone that was coming to look for you. If you had crashed into the middle of a field, anyone could probably spot you just by doing a quick scan of the area.

            There’s an eruption of bark only a few feet away from you, and for a moment you’re glad that you had landed on the ground, lest that shot have fired too close to your head and taken a chunk of your skull with it. You can hear return fire, and you slowly crawl through the grass to see Poe a little ways from the ship, his back braced against a tree trunk for support as he returned fire over a large tree trunk that had fallen on its side. In the distance, you can just make out the white helmets of Stormtroopers, and fear floods through you as you begin to crawl a little faster, until you’re right by his side.

            As another shot goes whizzing past you, Poe ducks to the side to avoid it, and almost jumps to see you beside him. “What are you doing?” he whispers harshly. “I thought I told you to stay on the ship.”

            “I was unconscious,” you whisper back, and Poe flinches as another blaster bolt comes whizzing past the spot where he had just been. You quickly duck down and draw your knees into yourself as you draw your back against the tree. “What the fuck do we do now?”

            You had never sworn in front of Poe before, and he at least has the decency to look surprised before he turns back to fire two shots in quick succession before he turns back around, breathing heavily. “Well, we’re outnumbered,” he offers. He leans forward suddenly and fishes something out of his back, just underneath his jacket, as he removes a small blaster and hands it to you. “Here, take this.”

            You take it, holding it out in front of you as if it was a snake that was going to come to life and shoot you at any time. “I’m not shooting this thing,” you tell him. “I hate blasters.” Suddenly a blaster bolt fires just beyond the side of the tree, and you’re almost certain that it singed your hair as it whizzed by.

            “Stay close,” Poe advises as he pulls you closer to him so that you both could share the space behind the large tree trunk, although it’s clear that it’s not big enough for two people. As Poe leans over to fire another shot, you notice that something is clearly moving behind the foliage off to your left. You quickly fumble with the blaster before you hold it straight out in front of you, making sure to bend your elbows and not to lock them as you prepared for the massive amount of recoil that it probably was going to inflict on you. The last thing you wanted was for it to snap back in your face and break your jaw or your nose or another tender part of your anatomy, and so you stayed vigilant, but prepared.

            Unfortunately, as the signature white domed helmet came into view, you knew you didn’t have a choice. You quickly pointed and fired the blaster, squeezing the trigger as many times as you could. As he raises his own blaster in your direction, one of your blasts strikes him in the shoulder, and Poe quickly reacts in time to fire off a more accurate shot. You watch as the Stormtrooper goes down, and for a moment you’re completely and totally stunned by what had just transpired.

            You don’t have long to wait, though, as Poe is back around the other side of the tree trunk exchanging fire yet again, and this time you feel brave enough to help as you quickly stand up, pressing your back into the tree trunk. You wait until a shot has already passed before you turn around and fire two quick shots. “Be careful,” Poe whispers in a hushed tone, and you can’t help but let out a snort.

            Be careful? He didn’t have to tell you twice. In fact, you were pretty certain that you were going to have to be the one to say that to him. He kept leaning over against the side of the tree for longer and longer intervals, and you had absolutely no idea what you would do if anything happened to him. For all intents and purposes, you were stranded on a foreign planet with no ship, trading fire with people who clearly wanted you dead.

            “Told you I should have brought my armor,” you tell him, and Poe’s lip pulls back into a smirk as he looks up at you.

            “Oh, you’re not having fun?” Poe asks as he arches an eyebrow, and you just shake your head from side to side to try to remain focused.

            “I wouldn’t call it that, no,” you reply as you turn around and fire another quick series of shots from out behind the tree. Your aim is terrible, and you can hear your first two shots hit against the heavy metal of the large vehicle that was protruding beside them. The third shot however, sounds like someone popped air out of a balloon before there’s a sudden high-pitched whine, and then everything goes silent for a moment. Poe grabs you and presses your face into his chest as he wraps both arms around you, as if he was trying to shield you from something.

            You don’t feel the force of the explosion until you’re suddenly knocked off your feet, and you crash painfully on the side of your arm on the ground beside Poe. “You okay?” he asks, brushing your hair back out of your face, and you nod your head quickly as you try to sit up. You notice that Poe’s hand is a little red as he pulls away, and you grab his wrist and turn it to the side so that you can see the crimson stain for yourself. He looks uncertainly down at his hand before looking back at you, and you gingerly reach your own hand up to touch your forehead. “It’s mostly dry,” he assures you, and you just wipe your fingers together to wipe the stain off your fingertips. You notice that he’s also been bleeding, as he has a long scratch down one side of his cheek, but you don’t have time to comment on it as you notice something move from over his left shoulder.

            “Poe-”

            He spins around so suddenly that it almost knocks you backwards again as he fires a shot straight into the torso of the approaching Stormtrooper before he can even raise his arm. He goes down immediately, and Poe quickly gets to his feet as he brushes himself off. “Stay here and stay low,” he advises. “I’m going to check things out, make sure we’re in the clear.”

            “Go, I’ll cover you,” you say quickly as you pick the blaster up off the ground and pull it back into your hands, and Poe looks like he wants to say something more before he turns around and picks his way over the log and carefully makes his way over to where the Stormtroopers had been firing from. The other gunship is still smoking, and you notice that Poe is approaching it cautiously, as if it might erupt into another explosion at any time. You watch him pick his way along the ground and check behind a few trees, before he quickly makes his way back over to you, constantly checking over his shoulder as he moves along to make sure he doesn’t have his back turned on an impending attack. You have your blaster propped up along the edge of the log, but at the same time, you honestly weren’t that confident in your firing abilities to say that you wouldn’t accidently hit Poe when you tried to aim. Poe briefly steps out into the trees to check on the wreck of the Draboonian prowler, but quickly steps back into view with a small shake of his head.

            “Pilot didn’t survive, so there’s nothing to be learned from him. Looks like we got them all,” Poe says as he gets closer. “Great shot, by the way. Looks like you ruptured one of the fuel cells in the first gunship.”

            “Lucky shot,” you agree as you breathe a sigh of relief. Now that you’re safe, or at least, momentarily out of danger, you pause for a moment as you try to take stock of yourself. Your heart is still beating rapidly in your chest, and the adrenaline in your upper arms is making your biceps twitch and spasm. You wanted to run, you wanted to fight, you wanted to _do_ something. You had just lived through a shuttle crash, you had just been in a shoot-out with several Stormtroopers, and yet somehow you had survived. It made you feel like you could do anything. It made you feel utterly invincible.

            Poe walks back towards you, totally unaware of the emotions that are bubbling up inside of you faster than you can control. “So I know you’ve had a pretty rough day,” Poe says lightly as he stops short in front of you. “But you doing okay?”

            You stare at him for a moment, and Poe’s eyebrow quirks in confusion, as if he’s not sure why you’re staring. But you do. You had been through hell and back today, and you had almost lost your life. You could have lost it on Bothawui, you could have lost it here, and you were tired of trying to live by protocol and your clearly flawed sense of moral scruples, especially considering no one would hold what you wanted against you when you were dead. No, you could go your entire life doing what you thought was right, or you could finally just give in to what you wanted.

            And today was that day.

            Without thinking, you rush forward and kiss Poe, planting your hands on either side of his face as you kiss him. He leans back slightly, clearly not expecting it, but it doesn’t take him more than another moment before he’s kissing you back, hands fisting in your hair with one hand as he uses his other arm to hold you closer against him. You allow yourself to explore his body, your hands skimming over his shoulders and through his hair while you let your tongue gingerly explore the inside of his mouth. You couldn’t deny that you wanted this; you had wanted this for quite a while and never quite known just how to summon the courage to do it. But apparently death was a powerful motivator, and in this moment, you couldn’t say you really minded all that much.

            Poe grabs you by the shoulders suddenly as he pulls away from you, and you freeze immediately, wondering if you had done something wrong. Poe sees the look that crosses your face, and quickly tries to assuage your fears. “Not here,” he says quickly by way of explanation. “We need to get back to the ship. We need to try to make contact with D’Qar and figure out what’s going on.”

            “So, epic case of bad timing?” you ask him as he starts back towards the ship, and his lip quirks into a smirk as he looks at you from over one shoulder.

            “Yeah, something like that,” he replies, and you quickly pick up the blaster you hadn’t realized you dropped before you quickly follow after him.

            “Okay, so let’s talk this out. When we first tried to reach out for help, you said the comms were jammed and we wouldn’t be able to get through to them. Did something change?”

            “I sure hope so,” Poe responds as he stares up at the wreck of the ship in front of you. “It’s possible that one of their ships was using something to jam our signal. With them gone, we should be able to get through now. If it’s that cynosure up there though, we’ve got a bigger problem.”

            “A _bigger_ problem?” you ask, your voice suddenly quiet in the stillness of the forest that surrounded you. “Then you mean to tell me that we’re stuck out here and no one knows where we are?”

            “Ship’s got a built-in tachyon tracker, so they’ll find us eventually, it’ll just take longer.” Poe says reassuringly as he begins to try to navigate the twisted boarding ramp to make it back into the ship. “But it’s not us I’m worried about. Someone sabotaged our ship, and that someone is probably still on base, considering the prowler and the chip were both from Draboon.”

            “Shit,” you curse loudly, loudly enough for Poe to stop and turn back around and look at you. You gesture frantically with your arms, trying but failing to properly figure out how to explain what you wanted to tell him. “Garrett,” you manage at length. “He wanted to tell me something. He looked really upset. What if-?”

            “Maybe,” Poe offers as he shakes his head. “But we don’t know anything for sure. He might have seen something suspicious, but we don’t know that he knows whoever’s behind this.”

            “I don’t know,” you reply as you gnaw on your lower lip, suddenly troubled that you hadn’t stopped to really listen to what Garrett had to say. You had just let him walk away, and you knew he never would have forgiven himself if you had died because he had failed to voice his concerns about something he happened to see or overhear.

            “We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Poe says as he holds out one hand, signaling for you to stay where you are. “For right now, just sit tight. I won’t be long. Yell if you need me.”

            “Roger that,” you reply as you turn around and slump to the ground, drawing your blaster into your lap as you kept the barrel pointed clearly away from you; the last thing you wanted was to fall victim to your own accidental destruction, especially when it seemed that someone had intentionally sabotaged the controls of your ship and put a tracker on you. But who had done it? And why? You doubted that anyone had targeted Poe; no, this was about you. Someone clearly wanted you dead, but you weren’t quite sure what you had done to set off this attack. Was this something that had been planned out for a while, or was this in direct response to what had happened yesterday on Bothawui? The timing seemed too close to be coincidental, and yet you didn’t want to make the mistake of accepting anything you thought as pure fact when there was still so much you didn’t know about the situation.

            There was so much to puzzle through, and you weren’t quite sure what you could do about any of it. You sigh as your shoulders slump and you stare up at the grey sky overhead, soaking in the quiet. You can hear Poe moving about inside the ship, and you can feel the time dragging along behind you, pulling you further and further down as you feel your chin drop against your chest. You weren’t sure exactly how much time had passed since the adrenaline had been coursing through your veins like wildfire, but now you just felt tired and spent, worn out in every sense of the word.

            “Hey,” Poe yells out from somewhere behind you, and your chin jerks up immediately as you spin around to face him, suddenly as alert as ever. “Don’t fall asleep on me,” Poe warns. “I know you hit your head pretty hard, and I’m not sure if you have a concussion.”

            “I’m fine,” you yell back quickly, although in truth, you felt anything but. Still, you couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just the overall stress from everything that had happened between yesterday and today creeping up on you, and so you just let it go. “How’s everything going up there? Did you get word to anyone about where we are?”

            “No such luck,” Poe replies as he shakes his head. “That cynosure must be jamming us, because I still can’t get through. Hopefully they’ll send someone to look for us soon, but if their scanners picked up anyone in the area, it could be a while before they come for us. It looks like we may have to spend the night here.” His vision goes from you to the sky before he turns back to look at you again, as if asking if this was okay by you. Was it okay? It didn’t really seem like you had any choice in the matter, and you just nod your head slowly as a troubled expression overtakes your features.

            Poe was only here because of you, had almost died because of you, and you weren’t sure what you would have done if you had woken up only to find Poe dead beside you, still strapped into the pilot’s chair, hands gripped tightly around the controls as he breathed his final breath. The thought sends a shiver through your spine, and you don’t even realize Poe is still watching you until his voice reaches your ears. “You cold?”

            “Uh, a little,” you reply as you turn back to face him. “I mean, just a little. I’m okay though, thanks.”

            “Just hold out a little longer,” Poe says as he turns back around to survey the inside of the ship. “I just have to gather a few things up here and then we’ll pack up and head out.”

            “Head out?” you reply blankly as you stare him down. “But you said this ship had a tracker. If they come for us, shouldn’t we stay with the ship?”

            “We don’t know who else may be tracking it,” Poe points out, and you can’t help but sigh as you acknowledge his point. “Don’t worry, we’re not going far. Besides, my team and I already have a plan set up for situations like this. We just need to stay between two and five clicks west of the shuttle and they’ll be able to find us, no problem.”

            “I trust you,” you say with a sigh as you turn back around and shoulder your blaster, as if you were a real soldier. “Just, go do what you need to do in there. If this ship is being tracked by the First Order, I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to. If they show up with more troops, well, let’s just say I don’t want to stick around and find out.”

            “Agreed,” Poe says as he turns around, but he doesn’t take long to get whatever he needs to as he quickly makes his way off the back of the ship to join you back on the ground. You glance at the survival pack strapped to his back, and while it looks slightly cumbersome and bulky, you can’t help but notice that it’s not very big at all.

            “So that’s really all the supplies we’re going to need for the night?” you ask as you arch an eyebrow, and Poe dips his head forward in a nod.

            “Yeah, should be,” he replies simply. “It’ll hold us for two to three days if we’re careful, otherwise we may need to scope out this planet and hope whoever lives here is friendly.”

            “Well, with the luck we’ve had lately, I wouldn’t exactly count on it,” you say glumly before Poe shoots you a look. “Sorry, it’s just kind of hard to remain optimistic considering everything that’s happened lately.”

            “And that’s fair,” Poe replies. “But try not to let it get you down, okay? We’re still here, still fighting, we can still make it.”

            You want to point out that you only had two weeks before you were headed back to Draboon, although considering what had just happened, you had no idea if that was still on the table. How could you go back there when the First Order _and_ a Draboonian traitor had just tried to eliminate you? Surely they would have a much easier time of it if you walked right into their hands, blasting your ship out of the sky before it even landed, or just eliminating you as soon as your feet led you off the boarding ramp. No, it seemed that your situation was more precarious than ever, and you suspected that Poe had to have known that.

            “Poe,” you say loudly, your voice suddenly full of alarm, and when he turns to look back at you, his expression is serious but not surprised. “I-” You hesitate to form the words as you follow after him, picking your way through the foliage. “Poe, if they want me dead, what about my mother? Do you think she’s okay, or do you think the First Order realizes that I’m not going to play their games?”

            “I think,” Poe begins, clearly choosing his words carefully. “That a hostile takeover of Draboon is an extremely risky maneuver, and not one they’re going to take lightly. While it _is_ possible, I don’t think they would have acted so soon after our meeting yesterday.”

            “Hope not,” you agree, and your voice is quiet. To his credit, Poe just leaves you to your somber thoughts as you head due west, marking some of the trees as you went in a secret code that Poe had apparently worked out with the other members of his squadron for an event such as this. You were glad he had a plan, and you tried to remain focused on that. If your mother was dead and the First Order had truly taken over Draboon, you had absolutely no idea what you would do. You couldn’t go back there, but that was your _home._ That was where you _lived_. Thinking that you could never again return to your home planet was absolutely absurd, and it wasn’t something you wanted to think about.

            “We should camp here,” Poe says as he stops in front of a heavy cluster of trees, and you just nod your head forward as he turns around to look at you. He looks like he wants to ask if you’re all right, but he knows the answer to that question, and you’re glad that he doesn’t push it. There were only two possible answers to that question, and you didn’t want to let him know that you weren’t okay. You didn’t want to lie to him either, and so you were glad that he didn’t put you in the position of asking a question that you didn’t feel comfortable answering.

            “Tell me what I need to do,” you say as you spread your hands by your sides, ready to work.

            “You can rest,” Poe says as he takes the pack off his back, but he seems to catch your glower although he’s not looking directly at you. “But if you feel like you need to do something, you can do a quick survey of the area if you’d like. See if there are any streams or any good sources of water nearby.”

            “Doesn’t look like it,” you tell him, considering that you hadn’t passed one on your entire way there. “But I’ll check.” As Poe dips to one knee to start setting up your sleeping arrangements for the night, you head past the cluster of trees and walk slowly west, wanting to stay within earshot of Poe if he called for you. You had no idea who else might have been walking around, and so you remained vigilant, blaster raised, as you picked your way through the underbrush. You tried as best you could to walk in one direction and make little notes to yourself as you went, sometimes scraping together a nice pile of leaves so that you could find your way back to the campsite if you happened to become disoriented and lose your way.

            But after you had walked for about ten minutes without seeing any shift in the landscape, you decided to return. The trees had all remained more or less the same, and you figured if they were close to water that they would change slightly, that the plants wouldn’t have their roots buried so deeply in the ground, or there would be at least _some_ discernable difference in structure that you could pick up on. But you weren’t a botanist, and you had no way of knowing for sure, and so you just let it go and returned back to Poe, stopping several times to make sure you were headed in the right direction. But your markers were well-placed, and it hardly felt like any time at all before you were back into the clearing that you started from, seeing a burlap-like tent set between two of the thickest trunks to keep it mostly hidden from anyone that might approach.

            Poe’s sitting beside it, rummaging through the pack as he picks out a random assortment of food. “Anything?” he asks as he looks up at you, but you just shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, I figured as much. As long as we’re careful, we should have enough supplies to last us three days, like I said. We’ll probably run out of water before we run out of food, so take that as you will, but-”

            “You sound so confident that they’re going to find us,” you say as you sit down across from him, and Poe’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

            “They will,” he replies with a firm nod of his head, and he seems perplexed as to why you would think otherwise as he gestures at the spread in front of him. “Like I said, this is worst case scenario. We don’t know what’s going on up there or how many First Order cruisers they might bring to the party, so it might take some time before they can get to us, but they _will_ come.” He seems unable to help himself as he cracks a grin in your direction. “Remember, I’m far too important for them to just abandon me here.”

            “Right,” you say with a light laugh as your upper lip quirks upwards into a small smile, and as Poe quickly returns it, a moment seems to pass between you as you regard each other. Poe reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and as his calloused fingertips brush against your cheek, you can feel your breath catching in your throat, as if your body had suddenly forgotten how to push air out of your lungs.

            “We’ll be okay,” Poe says softly. You just dip your head forward in quick agreement as he pulls away suddenly. “You still cold?”

            “I-” Before you even have time to respond, Poe’s pulling his leather jacket off of his shoulders and quickly drapes it around you as you feel a blush rise to the tops of your cheeks. As you pull it around your shoulders and cuddle into the thick material, you can’t help but notice that it still smells of machine oil, fuel and some unique combination of scents that was entirely his own. “Thanks,” you offer quickly as Poe sits down beside you, and despite your nerves, you allow yourself to relax slightly as you lean to the side, resting your cheek against his shoulder.

            Poe puts his hand on your knee, and for a moment the only sound that you can hear is your heart beating wildly in your chest. You wonder if Poe is as affected as you are, but you almost know he’s not as he slips an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. You want to say something, want to ask why it took you so long just to do something as simple as this, but you don’t open your mouth to speak. You both had responsibilities that existed outside of each other, but right now, in this moment, none of that mattered. Right now, you were both still overcome by the unfortunate prospect that the both of you could have just lost your lives, and that was not something that you were going to be able to put behind you so easily.

            A part of you wants to push him away. A part of you wants to tell him that you have too much on your plate right now to even try to entertain the trivial idea of romance, but even you couldn’t be quite sure that this was what this was. You liked him, and while you preferred not to think of the feelings that you had for Poe as just a distraction from what you were going through, you couldn’t be sure. Nevertheless, Poe had been in life or death situations before, and you were quite certain that whatever feelings that he had for you were genuine.

            “That rumor about us,” you begin suddenly. “That didn’t pop out of nowhere, did it?”

            “No,” Poe agrees with a quick shake of his head, and as much as it pains you to do it, you sit up so that you can face him while he talks. Even still, you find his hand and gently squeeze his fingers to try to keep your contact close. “It started out as a joke, and then turned into something more. Snap, Snap made some joke about how we were spending a lot of time together, and then things just kind of snowballed from there.”

            “So you’re saying that someone on your squadron has loose lips?” you ask as you raise an eyebrow. “Considering there may be a traitor in your midst as well, that doesn’t exactly seem to bode well for our current position.”

            Poe draws back away from you, releasing his hold on your hand, as if he’s offended by your comment. “Not a chance,” he replies as he shakes his head. “I’ve handpicked my team not only because they’re the best at what they do, but because they believe in the future of the Resistance just as much as I do. Our goal is to take down the First Order, whatever the cost, and none of them would dare betray us, none of them.” Poe shakes his head again as if to confirm this to himself, and you can’t help but let your heart sink in your chest.

            “I’m sorry,” you offer quickly as you draw back yourself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to question your team. I know they’re like a family to you and you all seem really close. I just don’t know them as well as you do, and-”

            “It’s fine,” Poe says as he quirks his lips up in a tight smile. You can still feel a string of tension pulling between you, and you’re disappointed as you see Poe adjust his positioning before he gets to his feet. “I’m going to take a look around, make sure that there’s no one close by. You going to be all right here?”

            “Yeah,” you say quickly as you nod your head, and Poe pulls his blaster out of his pocket before he checks the safety, making sure he switches it into the combat position before he heads off. Just before he heads off between the trees, you can’t help yourself. “Poe,” you call quickly, and he quickly spins around to face you. “Just, uh, be careful?” Poe smiles, a genuine one, before he dips his head forward in a nod and heads off. You just sigh, silently kicking yourself for opening your mouth and inadvertently pushing him away.

            It wasn’t anything you were going to apologize for, though. You had the same reaction when Leia had told you that she suspected someone of your security detailing, but it needed to be said. Like it or not, _someone_ in the Resistance had betrayed them, and you had absolutely no idea who it could be. You felt certain that it wasn’t one of yours, though, which meant that it could only be someone in the Resistance. You were willing to concede that it probably wasn’t anyone on Poe’s team, though. No, they seemed like an extremely close-knit group, and you doubted that they would betray Poe that way by leaking something so private to anyone else.

            Even still, it was possible that two people had been talking about it and it had been overheard. It was also possible that the traitor had also made up the rumor for their own benefit. After all, if Poe’s team were able to see how close you two were becoming, surely that was something that other people would be able to pick up on as well. You thought about all the people you had passed in the hangar and in the hallways. You didn’t know their names and couldn’t clearly picture their faces. They all just fell into the neat little column of _Resistance fighters_ , a term that didn’t really mean that much to you.

            Unfortunately, there were many of them and only one of you, which meant that it was more than likely that people would be able to pick you out of a crowd, especially with your signature blue hair and different manner of dress. For a moment, you allowed yourself to consider that maybe it _was_ your fault that this whole thing had happened the way it did. Perhaps someone had become disenchanted with the Resistance and wanted to join the First Order. What better way to secure an in than to become a spy for their side, to provide them with secret, valuable intel that they wouldn’t have been able to acquire any other way? Maybe the timing of the First Order’s arrival on Draboon wasn’t coincidental at all. Perhaps someone in the Draboonian guard had reached out to the First Order and explained the situation and offered information on you in exchange for, what? Currency? Power? A seat in the new government the First Order hoped to establish? Either seemed counterproductive, considering the First Order stood for everything that the Resistance and Draboon were against, but you had no idea who this person was or what their life had been like in order for them to decide to go through with such a decision, if that really was the case.

            Your mind could go around and around and forever, speculating about all the different alternatives, but fortunately you were spared from such a fate as you heard the footfalls of someone approaching your camp. You quickly toggle the safety off of your blaster and scoot your back against the nearest tree, branding your blaster out in front of you, ready to fire. You hold your breath as you listen to the direction the footfalls were coming from, but found that you couldn’t really pick one direction out of the multitude of directions that they could possibly be coming from. Whoever it is, though, must be able to see you, as the sounds of footsteps stop just on the edge of your camp.

            “Easy, easy, it’s just me,” Poe says as he holds up both hands and enters the clearing, and you can’t help but let out a heavy exhale as you lower your blaster. “Glad to see you’re on your guard, though.”

            “Yeah,” you agree as you nod your head forward. “Find anything?”

            “I think we’re in luck,” Poe tells you, and you raise your eyebrows curiously as you wait to see what he has to tell you. “I think I may have found a small stream just to the south.”

            “Figures I’d be walking in the wrong direction,” you say without any real malice in your voice as you raise your shoulders and let them drop.

            “Hey, at least you found out what direction it’s not in,” Poe points out, and you can’t help but shrug again as Poe comes over and grabs the pack off the ground. “I got some tools in here that should be able to assess the quality of the water and some other stuff that should make it drinkable if it’s not, but I don’t know how long it will take.”

            “Don’t worry about it,” you say as you shake your head. “As you said, I’m on my guard. I got this.”

            “You sure?” Poe asks, but you just wave him away. Even still, he bites his lip hesitantly as he studies you for another moment, but you have no idea what he’s hoping to see. “Okay, I’ll try to make this as quick as I can. Just make sure to stay alert, all right? I don’t want to come back to find you gone.”

            “You won’t find me if I’m gone,” you point out teasingly, and Poe just lets out a brief laugh as he shakes his head and adjusts the pack on his back before he once again disappears into the clearing. You listen to the sound of his boots making their way through the leaves before you lean back against the tree trunk and stare up at the sky above you. It’s still grey and lifeless, and you can’t help but pout as you let your hands drop to your sides. You didn’t want to be here, and yet, you had trouble recalling a place where you actually wanted to be. Your room on D’Qar was nice enough, but it was just temporary, and while you had always loved your lavish furnishings on Draboon, there had always been something off about it. You always felt like you never had enough, and while you chided that line of thinking, while you tried to convince yourself that you did, that you had more than most, you couldn’t help but still feel like there was something you lacked, and so you tried not to think about it as often as you could.

            So where was home for you then? Your fate had always been tied to Draboon and so it seemed to be the obvious answer, but now you were beginning to consider that perhaps you weren’t actually going to be able to return to Draboon after what had transpired. The worst part was that you knew, implicitly, that it was all your fault. If the First Order decided to spill the blood of your people, that would be on _your_ hands, all because you wanted to go to the Resistance. Of course, it was always possible that this had nothing to do with you. While you encouraged the idea, it was your mother who had chosen to financially back the Resistance, and there might have been someone on her Council who hadn’t agreed with that decision, someone who wanted to rise to power for themselves and thus contacted the First Order and purposely involved them in Draboon’s affairs. The appearance of the prowler certainly meant that it was at least possible.

            You didn’t know, and you hated the constant string of hypotheticals that seemed to run through your mind with every waking moment. It was too much for you to deal with, it really and truly was. You hated admitting that, hated that you were admitting to a weakness, but you honestly couldn’t help yourself. You wanted your life to be simple. You wanted the galaxy to stay at peace. You wanted difficult questions to have easy answers, and as much as it pained you to say it, you almost wanted to go back in time and tell Poe Dameron that no, you would not fund the Resistance, and stay out of this conflict once and for all. Then again, it was always possible that Draboon had always been targeted by the First Order, and your financial backing of the Resistance simply gave them motive to work towards their desired goal sooner rather than later.

            You didn’t know, and you never would know, and you didn’t know quite how to make peace with that. As it was, you couldn’t change the past, and so you knew you would have to do the best you could to protect your future. You didn’t know how you were going to do it when you weren’t even sure what your future looked like, but a part of you supposed that was the whole point. You couldn’t picture your future, and thus, you had nothing really to look forward to. You had always thought that you would simply grow up to be Queen of Draboon because that was what you were always told, but it wasn’t like you ever had a choice in the matter. But if it was your choice, did you want to fight for it? Did you want to protect what was yours by birthright?

            The fact that you even had to ask yourself that question was concerning. Were you selfish, is that what it was, trying to put your own needs over those of your system? A part of you wanted to say no, that these were simply doubts that everyone entertained at some point or another, but another part of you wasn’t so sure. In truth, you had hardly been as daunted as you had expected to be about the prospect of never being able to go back to Draboon, although you weren’t quite sure why that was. That was something that truly and completely baffled you, and you doubted that any amount of soul-searching would actually give you the answer to that question.

            But that didn’t mean you couldn’t deliberate on it, however, and the more you thought about it, the more it consumed your waking minutes until you slowly surrendered to the weight of your burden, puzzling over the unknown. Your chin dipped forward onto your chest, your eyelids fluttered shut, your blaster fell from your hand, and without consciously realizing it, you had already slipped into an anxious, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I think I've left you guys hanging long enough. Next chapter is smut. All of it. The whole thing. I promise. ;)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW content ahead

            You stir slightly, trying to get into a more comfortable position, but it’s not until you hear someone chuckle from somewhere near you that you cautiously blink your eyes open. Poe is sitting in front of you, sitting up on his haunches as he tends to a small fire, cooking something in the middle of a small black pot.

            “That smells good,” you say appreciatively as you wipe at your eyes with the back of one hand, trying to wipe the sleep away.

            “Then you must really be hungry,” Poe teases as he gives the pot another stir with what looks like a stick he happened to pick up off the ground. “I wouldn’t exactly call canned rations a feast, but Snap told me this stuff actually is pretty passable if you heat it up some.”

            “Good to know.” You blink again as you sit up, placing your blaster a little further away from you so you didn’t accidentally fire it. You didn’t want to switch on the safety just in case you needed to fire it quickly, but you still wanted it close by. Night had descended upon your camp as you had dozed, and you suddenly realize how dangerous it was to have fallen asleep as you look back at Poe with new alarm shining through your features. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep, I-”

            Poe chuckles again, but you’re not sure if it’s a cover to hide how uneasy he feels about leaving you here alone and basically defenseless. “Don’t worry about it,” he says with a small wave of his hand. “You must have really needed your sleep.” You start to speak, but he keeps going. “It looks like no one came by and you’re safe; that’s what matters.”

            “Yeah, but if someone _had_ come by…” Your voice trails off as you shake your head to the side, refusing to entertain that line of thought as you creep a little closer to the fire. The night air was chillier than you had expected it to be, and you pull Poe’s jacket a little closer around you as you warm your hands by the fire. Your fingers feel cold and numb, and you quickly press your knuckles into your palms as you crack them, one at a time, trying to restore at least some feeling to your frozen digits.

            “Unfortunately, I think it’s only going to get colder from here on out,” Poe says appreciatively as he watches you. “Fortunately, the tent is pretty well insulated against cooler temperatures and we have the chem heater, so we should be okay for the night. And your sleeping bag is lined with merlie wool, so you should have no problem staying warm.”

            “Good to know,” you say idly as you stare into the flame, before something about what he said catches your attention. You pause for a moment, replaying what he said in your head over again, before you turn to look at him. “ _My_ sleeping bag?” you repeat. “What about yours? What’s yours lined with?”

            “There’s just the one in the kit,” Poe replies, keeping his voice level as your face flushes. “But don’t worry about it. One of us has to stay out here and keep watch.”

            “Not if the temperature drops below freezing,” you tell him as you shake your head, although your heart is already starting to beat faster in your chest again. “Because if it does, I don’t think anyone from the First Order’s going to be out here looking for us either, not if it’s that cold.” The image of you and Poe pressed together in the sleeping bag slips into your mind, and you quickly shift your thoughts to more pressing matters. “So why is the First Order set up on this planet, anyway? Sharlissia has nothing. I don’t think I’ve seen a single living thing out here aside from these plants.”

            “I’ve been thinking about that, and I think I’ve figured it out. Remember your lesson on thermal zones? It’s too warm in this area.”

            You make a point of breathing out through your mouth to make a thick vapor cloud. “Warm?”

            Poe laughs before answering, “Well, warmer than completely iced over like the rest of the planet.” He bites his lower lip as he stirs the pot before continuing. “Does the moss on Draboon glow too?”

            _What?_   You look around at the trees and notice some of them have patches that glowed ever so faintly, just like the jungles of Draboon. “Wait. Do you mean to tell me the First Order wants Draboon for the _moss_?”

            “It’s possible. There’s a lot of icy uninhabited planets in the galaxy, and warming them up, even a small portion, would be a key first step in colonizing them. They must have been testing it here before bringing it to one of their planets.”

            As he says this, the wind picks up as if to remind you of the stakes here, chilling both you and Poe to the core.

            “Well, we’re not going to be able to warn the others if we freeze to death here.”

            “That’s a fair point,” Poe agrees as he starts to ladle soup into a small ceramic bowl. “Careful, it’s hot,” he offers as he hands it to you, and you’re almost surprised by how fast your hands go from freezing cold to uncomfortably hot, where you can feel your sensitive skin on your fingers burning. Poe seems completely unaffected as he ladles soup into his own bowl and raises it to his lips, taking a quick sip as he glances over at you. “See, what’d I say? Not too bad.”

            “No,” you agree, but Poe quirks an eyebrow, as he can clearly see that you haven’t eaten anything yet. “I’m waiting for it to cool down first,” you say quickly by way of explanation, and Poe just nods his head as he turns back to his own bowl, and his own thoughts. Your thoughts are surprisingly vacant as you stare down at your bowl, cautiously taking small sips of it as you stare into the crackling flames of the fire set out in front of you. You can feel the heat against your face, and although it’s slightly more oppressive than you would have preferred, you don’t pull away. You’re not sure why you don’t, but you seem strangely numb, both inside and out, and you wonder if maybe your body was silently urging you to fall back to sleep.

            You glance over to notice Poe watching your expression, although the look on his face is passive. “It’s good,” you say appreciatively, but he just shakes his head to imply that that wasn’t what he was thinking about.

            “I just think you should know, you’re really brave,” he ventures after a moment, then shakes his head as if he shouldn’t have even ventured that thought aloud.

            But now that he’s said it, you’re not about to let it go unheeded. “Brave?” you echo as you involuntarily emit a light laugh from the back of your throat. “No, I’m not brave, and I’m definitely not as courageous as you are. You actively go out and _fight_ the First Order, you try to do some good in the galaxy. Me? I’m just sitting here trying to do my best, although I’m not quite sure what that means anymore.”

            “I think you do,” Poe ventures with a firm nod of his head. “You care about people. I can see it. You’re trying to do what’s right, not just for yourself, but for everyone. I know what a burden that can be, how isolating it can seem, and you’ve shown real strength in keeping yourself grounded throughout everything that’s happened.”

            “I don’t know,” you say as you roll your shoulders idly, mostly because you didn’t. You didn’t know if Poe was trying to talk you up to help keep your mind off the present situation, or if he really, honestly meant everything that he had said. Maybe he did. Maybe that was the way that he saw you, maybe part of the reason why he liked you. If that was the case, he had to know the truth. “I came out here because I wanted to be a pilot, I did, but I didn’t really think through the ramifications that this could have with the First Order, I just, I didn’t see it coming. And then asking to arrange that meeting with them? That put you and Jess in danger, and if something had happened to you because of me, well, let’s just say I’m glad it didn’t.”

            “We’re the ones who wanted to come along, remember?” Poe asks as he shakes his head from side to side. “Remember, we could have given you one of our ships and let you go off by yourself. I would have trusted you with it, but we didn’t because we wanted to be there too. We wanted to find out information about the First Order just as much as you did.”

            “But that wasn’t my place,” you say as you shrug your shoulders uncomfortably, setting down your bowl. “As much as it pains me to say it, it’s not my place to help you, Poe Dameron. I’m supposed to be taking care of my planet, my people, and I think I failed in that regard.” You glance back to the flames burning in front of you. “I’m starting to think that I may never be able to go back there. If something’s happened, well-”

            “I know,” Poe says quickly, and you know that he can sense it too. If they had tried to kill you once already, it was more than likely that they would kill you as soon as you stepped foot back on Draboon. All because your mother had to finance the Resistance. All because of you. There weren’t words to describe how badly you felt, or how much you wished you could travel back in time and take back your decisions.

            “A part of me doesn’t mind so much,” you offer suddenly, as if to negate your thoughts, and Poe raises his eyebrows in interest as he surveys you curiously. “Being Queen of Draboon was just a life that I was always destined for, an obligation, and I never really thought of myself outside of that. But being here, I’ve learned new strengths, new skills, and helped meet new people that helped me to, I don’t know, broaden my definition of myself.” You fidget with your fingers uncomfortably as you continue. “I don’t know, I liked being here. Maybe that makes me really selfish, but I just, I don’t know, I’m glad I came here.”

            “For what it’s worth, I’m glad too,” Poe replies, and you can’t help the blush that you feel creeping over your cheeks. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure what your goal was when General Leia told me that your mother wanted me to train you. She wondered if your mother was maybe already working with the First Order and wanted to gain intel on us, but after seeing you, I could immediately tell that it wasn’t the case.”

            You can’t help but lean forward, your interest piqued. Honestly, thinking back, you couldn’t be quite sure why Leia had agreed to let you come onto her base and train with her best pilot, except that you rationalized that she must have needed the funds quite badly. Now, though, you were beginning to see another side of it. Leia was pragmatic, and she trusted Poe. If you really were working with the First Order, she trusted Poe to uncover the truth from you.

            “So you didn’t trust me,” you murmur under your breath, although you almost found that hard to believe. He had been so courteous and genial with you, introducing you to his friends and making you feel accepted there, and yet had that all just been an act in order to try to ascertain why you were really there?

            “Trust has to be earned,” Poe points out, and you can’t help but roll your shoulders in tacit agreement. “But I knew when I first met you that you didn’t have anything to do with the First Order. I like to think that I’m a pretty good judge of character, and I could tell right away that you weren’t hiding anything from me.”

            “Nothing to hide,” you say as you spread your hands in front of you, and suddenly you can’t help but let a grin rise to the surface of your lips. “Honestly, I think you would be able to sense if I was with the First Order right away, because I would probably have been a _much_ better pilot than I was when I got here. You can’t fake being that bad.”

            “You weren’t _that_ bad,” Poe counters, but you just narrow your eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. Still, Poe doesn’t back down. “I mean it,” he continues. “A little rough around the edges, sure, but so is everyone when they’re first starting out. You applied yourself, and that’s what counts.” You let out a small exhale through your nostrils and shake your head before you look back at him. “No, no, I mean it. Think about how hard you were trying to get ahead when you just got here. You were so eager to learn everything that you could-”

            “Because it was an escape,” you offer with another small shrug. “It was a distraction. It got me to realize what life outside of Draboon looked like, and now that I know, there’s a chance that I’ll never be able to go back there.”

            “You did what you did to better yourself despite whatever objections some people may have had,” Poe points out to you. “That’s not selfish, that’s inspiring. You can’t lead others unless you know yourself, and you can’t get to know other people unless you put yourself in their shoes. Think about it this way, haven’t you grown meeting all these new people, and being able to talk with them and learn about their lives on other planets? If you had stayed on Draboon, you wouldn’t have been able to get that experience and suffice it to say, I think your rule would have been less effective.” Your jaw drops open, but Poe holds up his hands and continues. “No, think about it, it’s true. Like it or not, Draboon doesn’t exist in a vacuum. You exist in the galaxy along with everyone else, and you have to know other people, their lives, how they behave, what they believe in, in order to understand them. Draboon’s market economy, specifically, relies heavily on other planets, doesn’t it? You came here to learn things to help enhance your rule, to be a better person for your people, and I can’t think of anything braver than that.”

            “Wow,” you whisper softly, and that’s all you can honestly bring yourself to say. Honestly, you had never really rationalized your motives further than the fact that you had simply _wanted_ to go, but Poe seemed to think that you had some deeper pragmatic motive that was unconsciously hidden in your psyche. Was he right? Did he truly know you better than you knew yourself? Maybe that was the whole problem. You didn’t know yourself, not really, hadn’t really given it too much thought, but you had to now. You were in a position where you were being forced to, and you could only imagine that Poe, who was so comfortable with who he was, was the best person to help you with that. Maybe that was why you had gotten so close to him in such a short span of time; you envied what he had, that freedom to be himself, and you were subconsciously hoping that his inner confidence would help inspire you and awakens yours as well.

            “All true,” Poe says with a firm nod of his head and your gaze dips back to the fire again as you gnaw on your lower lip, trying to figure out what to say to something like that. What do you say to someone who can blatantly admit to knowing you that fully and that well? There’s nothing, you decide, nothing you can say, and so you simply push yourself back away from the fire as you scoot closer to him, reaching forward to kiss him gently. He puts one hand on your cheek as he kisses you back, holding you in such a way that he can angle your jaw with his thumb, and as you feel a shiver run through you, you realize that you don’t want to wait any longer. You had been arguing this over so many times over and over again in your mind trying to figure out if you _should_ , if this was the right thing to do.

            But out here, there was no right or wrong. The truth was that you wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel his lips against your own, and Poe wanted the same thing in return. Maybe the only thing you had been doing wrong was trying to pretend that you didn’t feel anything for him, acting as though nothing would ever come of your clear attraction to one another. You both could have died when your ship had crashed, and you would have died with that regret still looming in your final thoughts. That wasn’t the way you wanted to die, and this wasn’t the way you wanted to live. You didn’t want to constantly struggle with your feelings and wonder if they were simply a pleasant distraction from what you were going through, because they weren’t. Your feelings were there, they were real and they were strong and they were valid, and you wanted to, for the first time, you wanted to feel what it would be like to give into them.

            You’re not quite sure when you deepen the kiss, or how exactly you manage to slide into Poe’s lap, but suddenly you’re there, your back to the flames, while Poe runs his hands up the sides of your outer thighs before he slips them underneath the back of his jacket, his calloused fingertips brushing against the tender, cool skin of your lower back. You have one arm wrapped around his shoulders, running your free hand through his hair, enjoying the way his thick, dark hair parted so easily with every pass of your fingers. You kissed him deeper now, pushing all of yourself into the kiss, all of your pent up feelings and urges that you had denied yourself from feeling over the past few weeks. They were all bubbling to the surface now, all struggling to express dominance at once, and whether you liked it or not, you didn’t stand a chance.

            Without thinking, you push Poe’s arms back away from you suddenly as you break the kiss. He immediately looks up at you, eyes wide, but you just stand up quickly as you offer him your hand. He glances down at your hand and then back at you, some unseen emotion playing behind his eyes before he takes it, and you waste no time in turning around and leading him over to the tent. You had no idea what it looked like on the inside, but it didn’t really matter as long as you had some place soft to lay down on. You would have much preferred your bed back on the Resistance base, or possibly even Poe’s bed, but that was something for perhaps another time, if you both survived long enough to even make it back to D’Qar. Right now this would have to do, unless you really wanted your first time with him to be up against a tree with the bark scratching your tender palms raw as he pushed into you from behind, fingering you with his free hand as his short fingernails dug into the delicate skin of your bare hips.

            As pleasant as that thought was, that wasn’t what you wanted right now. You wanted to feel him, wanted to kiss him, and you barely take the time to even look at the inside of the dark tent as you fall backwards onto something cool yet soft, what you can only take to be the sleeping bag that Poe had laid out for you. In the darkness, you stretch your palms out on either side and can see while it wasn’t _huge_ , it was definitely big enough for two people.

            If you snuggled up with him.

            And you had absolutely no problems with that.

            At all.

            But the snuggling could come later, and you can’t quite catch Poe’s expression in the darkness as he closes the tent flap behind you and leans over you, his body pressing over your own. You could feel the heat of his breath on your face and you can’t help but let your eyelids flutter as he starts to kiss your neck, slowly, brushing his lips against the sensitive skin there before he reaches down to kiss you, slowly, each movement planned and deliberate. You can feel your head growing heavy, and you dip your head back as if it had become too burdened by all the thoughts in your skull as you relax back into the sleeping bag and give him easy access to touch as much of you as he wanted.

            And he wants to, you can feel it as he runs his hands down the length of your sides, drinking in your body as much as he can with every deliberate touch. You roll your hips up into his as you squeeze your eyes shut, desperate for more sensation. You can feel desire starting to pool hot and thick in your core, and you can’t help but let your teeth sink into your lower lip to suppress a moan as Poe’s lips reach a sweet spot between your jaw and your lower neck. As he juts his tongue into the sensitive hollow, you suddenly can’t take anymore as you reach up and kiss him, grabbing his face in both hands as you pull him closer.

            Poe seems to sense your desire and your need as he reaches his hand around your back and grabs your ass firmly in one hand, pushing your hips further into his. You can feel his hardened length through his trousers and you let out a moan, your voice breathless and unfamiliar in the cool night air. You don’t want to be loud, you don’t know who might be close by or who might be listening, but right now your body is dizzy with sensation and your nerves are all begging desperately for your attention, begging you to simply roll back and to submit to how much you wanted this.

            And you do. You push yourself up and find your way into Poe’s lap again so that you’re sitting with your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles crossed behind him as if you don’t want to let him leave. You don’t, you know that for certain, a part of you wishes that you could stay in this tent with him and leave the rest of the galaxy behind you. You know that can’t happen, but you do your best to push those thoughts out of your mind as you focus on the way he touches you over his soft, deep breaths of air in between your fervent kisses and bids for attention.

            Slowly, you can feel Poe sliding his leather jacket off of your shoulders, and you obediently move your arms behind you to make it easier for him to take it off. Once he disposes it onto the ground beside the sleeping bag, he immediately runs his hands down your bare arms. A small murmur of appreciation escapes the back of his throat, as if this simple act was something he had been waiting to do for quite a while. In response, you press closer against him, your chest against his chest, silently begging him to go further as Poe reaches down and gently slips your shirt up and over your head.

            You quickly find the world outside your shirt to be a chilly one, but you barely notice it as Poe’s hands are suddenly against your back and running down along your sides in a quick attempt to keep you warm. His touch was beyond words, but it wasn’t enough for you, not right then. No, you wanted more, and you quickly dip your hands down to his waistline as you help him remove his own shirt.

            In a matter of seconds, Poe is sitting in front of you, topless, and you can’t help but bite your lower lip as your eyes skim down his muscular chest. Your fingertips are next, tracing the lines in his abs as you run your fingertips in a slow trail towards his navel. Suddenly, without prompting, your lips crash together against and your breasts are pressed flat up against his chest as he wraps his arms around you tightly and holds you so close to him that you’re almost dizzy from the sudden amount of contact. Over the past few weeks, you had wanted to kiss Poe Dameron, to do more than just idly flirt with each other under the guise of just being close. You wanted to be close to him, you wanted to be closer than you had ever been with anyone, and as long as the First Order didn’t interrupt, you were going to get your wish.

            Poe’s hands glide up from your waist towards your chest, his fingers going achingly slowly, before he takes one of your breasts in each hand. He’s being exceedingly gentle with you, you realize, as he gently moves his thumbs in slow circles around your areolas, and you can’t help but release a long moan into his open mouth as your nipples harden under his touch. You want to tell him that this feels good, you want to tell him to keep going, but right now you’re sure that you’re so wet from just anticipating and fantasizing about what this moment would be like that you’re pretty sure that you have soaked straight through your pants, not that you really minded all that much if you did. You weren’t ashamed of yourself in front of Poe, weren’t embarrassed in front of him, and you’d have no problem dropping to your knees and begging to take his thick cock in your mouth if that was what you had to do to just have an opportunity to taste him.

            His hands continue to skim your body, one hand continuously teasing your nipple while his other hand moves languidly up and down your back, as if in an attempt to keep you warm. He’s going slow, maybe because he thought that that was how you wanted it, maybe because that was what he wanted, but you can’t deny that you want more. You had been waiting for this moment between you for quite some time, wondering if it would ever happen, and now that it was you didn’t want to rush things, but you didn’t exactly want to sit back and just let him passively explore your body. You wanted more, you wanted…

            Almost without thinking, you take his wrist in one hand as you guide the hand that had been exploring your back over to the hem of your pants. His fingertips gently nudge the bump in the fabric and he pulls back slightly, as if he’s surprised by how wet you are. You’re not just wet, you’re soaking, and you grind yourself slowly over his fingers, desperate for more sensation. You weren’t ashamed of how much you wanted him, and Poe seems to be able to sense this as well as he wastes no time dipping his fingers into the waistband of your pants.

            You have to ease off him slightly and sit up to allow him room to navigate his hand inside your pants, but once he does, he wastes no time in delicately sliding his palm along your clit until you can feel him tentatively push his middle finger inside of you. You whimper slightly as you grab hold of both of his upper arms for support, nipping his lower lip before pulling it out slowly, tauntingly, pulling away slightly only to lean in again and lick the tender area just beneath his lower lip with the tip of your tongue. Poe lets out an appreciative breath as he bumps noses in an attempt to kiss you again, and you nuzzle him for a moment, resting your forehead against his, letting the hot breath from his lips mix with the intoxicating sensation of him moving his finger slowly in and out of you.

            “You’re really wet,” Poe whispers appreciatively against your lips, and you can’t help but grin as you kiss him again, feeling a new sort of feeling stirring inside of you. It wasn’t lust, no, this was something much different. There was some carefree sense of joy that you didn’t quite understand, mixed with a sentiment that felt almost like relief, and if you were at last free of the burden you had been carrying these past few weeks as you realized you were finally getting what you wanted.

            “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” you ask as you lean forward to whisper it in his ear, nipping gently on his earlobe and teasing it between your teeth gently before you pull away, letting his delicate stubble brush the sensitive skin of your cheek.

            “I have some idea,” Poe replies before he kisses you again, hard, grabbing the back of your head with one hand as he holds you close to him and kisses you deeply. You can’t help but let out a breathy moan into his open mouth, but Poe doesn’t pull away. Instead, he only deepens the kiss, and you can feel yourself becoming delirious and breathless in a way that made you feel like you were being consumed whole. At the same time, he increases the speed he pumps his fingers in and out of you, and you can’t help but grind more fervently against him, begging silently for release as goosebumps started to grace the surface of your stimulated skin.

            “Fuck, Poe.”

            Far from your most eloquent thing you had ever said to him, but you needed him. You needed him right now; in fact, you needed him yesterday, but there was very little you could do to go back and change the past, and so you would just have to make do by making the most out of your present. You lift your neck up slightly as you let him kiss your neck, although he seems to be becoming just as intoxicated as you are, his kisses becoming harder and more forceful as he presses his lips against your collarbone and applies a rapid burst of suction. Your hips jerk at the sudden contact, and suddenly you can feel something in you slip. You’re not sure what it is, but you can almost feel a marble in your stomach roll backwards into your esophagus before you suddenly feel cold all over, and you’re overcome with an overwhelming sense of pure need.

            “Poe.” Your voice is unlike anything you’ve ever heard before, but he seems to be able to sense how desperate you are as he quickly pulls his hand out of your pants. You don’t want him to stop, and you definitely don’t want him to push you off of his lap. He does it regardless, and for a moment you’re about to ask him what’s wrong before he suddenly grabs the hem of your pants and pulls them down, jerking the tight fabric off of your ankles before he discards them on the ground alongside his jacket. You can feel cool air pricking at your newly exposed flesh, before Poe suddenly grabs your legs in both hands and pushes them around his shoulders. You don’t even have time to blink or ask him what he’s doing before you suddenly feel his lips against your clit, using the very tip of his tongue to trace the outline of your soaking entrance before he starts to eat you out.

            “Shit, shit, shit.” You let out a high-pitched breathy gasp that still doesn’t sound anything like you as you arch your hips up, pressing yourself further into his face. He moves his hands around to hold onto both sides of you, making sure that you didn’t move too much as you began to feel your insides tighten at a frantic pace. You could feel yourself building as the backs of your hands moved against the cool, plush fabric of the sleeping bag, and the contrast between the cool fabric and Poe’s warm skin tickled your nerves in a way that was almost impossible to describe, the sensation clouding almost all of your other senses.

            Without warning, Poe suddenly changes his position slightly as he brushes his teeth against your sensitive area, nibbling on the lip of your pussy. Your vision suddenly blacks in front of your eyes, and suddenly your stomach ties itself into a knot as it feels like someone had just pushed you off the edge of a cliff. You feel your body simply let go, and you can feel the muscles in your thighs tremble and spasm as your body jerks involuntarily, seemingly of its own accord. You have lost all control of the sounds you’re making now as you give yourself over to him, using the muscles in your shoulders to push your lower back off the ground as you press yourself into him as much as you possibly can.

            Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, Poe uses his tongue to flick at your clit, licking it rapidly. Your brain feels like a million tiny needles are being poked into it at all sides, and you almost can’t breathe as you feel wave upon wave of pleasure cascading down over your body, making you completely delirious as you’re filled with each new sensation. You’re coming, you can feel yourself dripping against his parted lips but Poe shows no signs of slowing down. Instead, he keeps going, building you up only to watch you crash again, sending you spinning through a multitude of turbulent sensations each and every time.

            Suddenly he pushes you away from him roughly, and you just tilt your head back and let your eyelids slip shut as you rake in deep, heavy gasps of air, trying to regain control of your body. Whatever control you try to gain, however, is short-lived, as no more than a minute later, you can feel Poe lower his body down over yours. He takes your cheek in one hand as he uses his thumb to help guide your chin to his lips, where he kisses you softly, gently. You can still taste your own sticky juices against his mouth, and the corner of Poe’s lip quirks into a soft smile as he reaches down and uses one finger to sample your sticky juices. He gently guides his finger up your body to your lips, where he presses his finger flat against your tongue so you can taste your own sweet juices. You suck his finger clean, your eyes burning into his, feeling a new kind of pulse starting to reawaken your clit.

            Without breaking his gaze, he runs the edge of his thumb against the edge of your lower lip, and you tremble as you move your faces closer together again, until they’re no more than a quarter of an inch apart. You’re so close you can feel his lips brush against yours as he breathes, but they don’t come together, not quite yet.

            “Do you want to…?”

            Your brain is still frozen for a moment before it finally sinks in what he’s asking. Your mouth opens and closes for a moment, but the words just won’t come. You wanted him, you were desperate for him, and all you can do is just nod your head forward quickly before you put your hands on either side of his face and kiss him as hard as you can muster. Poe groans into your open mouth as he pushes you back onto the sleeping bag, this time lowering his body down over yours. You can feel _something_ between your legs, and you can feel goosebumps reinsert themselves all over your body before you can feel Poe gently pushing his tip against your entrance. You gently move your hips around to give him better access, and then all at once, you can feel him filling you as he slowly pushes his way inside of you.

            He lowers himself onto your chest as he uses one arm to keep himself propped up slightly so as not to crush you under his massive frame, not that you really think you would have minded if he did, in your present state of mind. He gives you a moment to allow yourself to get used to the feeling of him inside of you, but it doesn’t take you more than a second to adjust yourself to him. As cliché as it was to think, it felt like he fit inside of you perfectly, and as you reach up to kiss him, you can’t help but start to grind your hips against him at a languid pace, spurring him on, showing him just how desperate you were to feel him.

            Poe kisses your lips before trailing them down your cheek, where he breathes your name into your ear, making you shiver with a new sense of anticipation. He rolls his hips slowly, gently teasing you with this languid rhythm, but you can feel yourself pulsing against him regardless, desperate for anything you can do for more stimulation.

            “I want to be on top, Poe.”

            The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and Poe’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he obeys nonetheless as he wraps his arms around you and rolls you over so that you were now lying on top of him. You quickly make sure you don’t slip off by grinding your knees into the sleeping bag, pushing yourself down onto him as you kept your toes planted against the floor. Poe lets out a breath as his eyes travel up your body, and you can’t help but smirk as you take his hands and lead them to your chest, letting him cup your breasts in both hands. You know what he’s thinking, and although the words don’t leave his lips, you can see it in his eyes, and it helps spur you on with new confidence you weren’t sure you had.

            You grind your hips against his slowly, getting a feel for this new position, before you quickly start to increase your speed, pushing yourself against him with all the force you can muster, desperate for another rush of release. Poe keeps one hand on your breast, gently teasing your nipple with his fingers, while his other hand comes around to the side of your waist to hold you steady and keep you from slipping off. You lean back slightly, pushing yourself against him, and you can feel yourself building against him with a new sense of urgency. You dip your chin forward to your chest and you scrunch your eyes shut, and you can almost feel your insides tighten around him.

            “Not yet.” Poe sits up so suddenly that you almost slip off him in surprise, but he’s already holding you steady by your shoulders. There’s a struggle of limbs as Poe sits up, and you quickly straddle him again, sitting in his lap with his thick member still pressed deeply inside of you. Your lips are parallel to his now, and you quickly kiss him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders so you can run your hands through his hair as you continue to bounce up and down on his hardened length. You’re almost sure you can feel his cock throbbing with the same exhilaration that you’re feeling, and you’re so, so close to letting yourself go again that you almost don’t think you can hold on. Poe seems to sense this as he leans in suddenly, moving his lips up and along the side of your neck, showering your skin with frantic, sloppy kisses as he holds you tightly to him. Goosebumps are once again taking hold of your body and you can feel yourself grow cold as you start to tremble, and you sink your teeth into the skin just above his shoulder as you bury your short fingernails into his back as you start to feel yourself give again.

            You can feel him slow as he finds his own release inside of you, and you can’t help but pant desperately as you try to bury yourself in him, hopelessly determined to ride out this feeling as long as you possibly could. Your thoughts were starting to reassert themselves in your mind again, and that was something that you didn’t want to happen. You didn’t want to think about how this was probably your one and only chance to do this, that you would probably never be allowed to be intimate with him when you got back to D’Qar. Here, you were on neutral territory, but back there, he was the Commander and you were, well, a temporary guest. You’re so wrapped up in the sudden despair of this thought that you can’t be sure whether the pit in your stomach was from your recent excursions or if it was brought upon by these new thoughts. You shiver again, and Poe instinctively wraps his arms around you as he rests his cheek against your shoulder, his lips hovering just above the overheated flesh of your neck.

            You want to cry. You want to run. You want to tell him that you love him even if you don’t, and your mind suddenly rushes through a series of frantic thoughts that don’t seem to make logical sense together. Your thoughts are going through your mind so quickly it’s like a frantic blur of color and even you can’t catch them in time to make any sense of them. You wish you had answers, you wish you knew how this was all going to play out, but you didn’t know, couldn’t know, and you weren’t quite sure how to deal with that sense of uncertainty. It had always been there from the beginning, but you couldn’t deny that this changed things now, at least for you. Maybe they wouldn’t for him, but you knew the only way you were going to get answers was by talking this out.

            And that was something you didn’t want to do. You didn’t want to draw your fears out into the open and expose them, where your doubts could entertain the possibility of being confirmed by truth. No, that was the absolute _last_ thing that you wanted to happen. Hovering in uncertain abeyance wouldn’t improve your situation either, but at least it wouldn’t make things any worse.

            Still, you can’t stay cuddled in this position forever, and Poe seems to sense this as he straightens up slightly, moving his hands around your narrow frame to hold you at arm’s length as he slowly pulls away. He looks like he wants to say something, but he’s communicating solely with his eyes and you haven’t learned to read those so well yet. You part your lips as if to speak yourself, but it seems that words were of no use to either of you in that moment, at least, not until Poe speaks next.

            “I should keep watch,” he says quietly, and the words settle on your skin like a thin film as the weight of what he’s saying sinks in.

            “I don’t think anyone’s coming around outside,” you offer. “It’s far too cold for that. We should be good if we tuck in for the night.” To his credit, Poe looks like he’s seriously debating this. He wants to, it’s more than obvious that he wants to, but he would never forgive himself if something happened to you because of it, either. You lean forward slightly as you pout, taking his hands as you intertwine his fingers between both of yours. “Please stay? I’m cold.”

            You make your eyes as large and sincere as possible as you pout up at him, and Poe lets out a little chuckle as he looks away. “Maybe that’s because you’re not in the sleeping bag yet,” Poe counters, and you quickly let go of his hands and pull away from him as you slip underneath the sleeping bag. He’s right, the Merlie wool is extremely warm, but you want Poe right there with you, even if it meant you might be sweating next to him all night.

            “Still cold,” you tell him, but Poe sees right through you as he shakes his head and gives you another small laugh as an answer. He seems to think something through for a moment before he finally brings his head around to look back at you.

            “Okay, but let me take care of the fire first,” he tells you as he sits up slightly to get out of the tent. You want to tell him to make it fast, or to hurry back, but the words get caught in your throat as he turns and leaves, closing the tent flap behind you, and you swallow your heartbeat in your chest as you sit back on your elbows and try to think. Regardless, you’re not even sure what you should be thinking about, and you allow your thoughts to drift in and out of your mind without being consciously aware of any of them.

            You don’t know how long you sit like that for, holding perfectly still as you listen to the sound of Poe moving about outside. He’s completely naked now, and you can’t help but feel your cheeks scrunch upwards in a happy pose as you think about what would happen if the Storm Troopers happened to emerge through the clearing and find him in such a position. It would be amusing for all of about fifteen seconds before the Storm Troopers pulled out their blasters, and then amusing would probably turn to fatal before Poe could dart back inside and grab his own blaster.

            Fortunately, these fears are more or less unfounded as no such thing occurs. Poe comes back inside, and you can’t help but glance up to see his flaccid length pressed against the side of his thigh. You can feel a flush surface to the tops of your cheeks, but there are no lights in the tent, and you doubt that he can see it in the darkness. He drops down to his hands and knees as he enters the tent, and quickly crawls over to your position, tucking himself into the sleeping bag beside you. He holds out one arm, and you quickly recline your cheek along his bicep as he wraps his arms around you, tucking your hair underneath his chin. He doesn’t say anything, and although you want to talk, want to get some sense as to what this was and what it meant to him, you can’t bring yourself to say the words.

            “Poe?”

            Or, apparently, you can.

            “Mm?”

            His voice is drowsy, and although you can hear the steady pulse of silence from outside, something spurs you onward, a rare thread of courage that was blossoming within your chest.

            “What happens now?”

            “Hm?”

            “What happens now?” Poe doesn’t say anything, but he stiffens slightly, as if he’s thinking it over. Still, his silence confirms what you’re perhaps most afraid of, and for some reason, a part of you thinks that if you keep talking, you might be able to relieve at least some of the tension in your chest. You know you probably will only make the situation worse, but a part of you honestly can’t help yourself. “I mean, once we get back to D’Qar, what happens then?”

            “I guess we’ll see,” Poe replies, and now you can feel your heart plummet in your chest, but you can’t bring yourself to venture any further and say anything more. You should have known things were going to play out this way, and while you weren’t exactly sure what you were supposed to know, you should have expected that you would find yourself disappointed either way. After all, nothing else seemed to be going right for you lately, so why should this be any different?

            As if he can sense the melancholy that’s settling over you, Poe reaches forward to plant a kiss against your forehead, but it does little to ease the maelstrom that is stirring inside you now. You felt embarrassed, and foolish, and now there was nothing you could do about any of it.

            “You okay?” Poe asks slightly as he pulls away from you, trying to make out your expression in the darkness, and your heart skips a beat in your chest as you realize that you were so close to him, that he could probably feel your heartbeat, and subsequently, your unease as well.

            “Yeah,” you reply lightly, surprised how stable your voice sounds as you whisper your words softly into the chilly night air. “Yeah, just.” You stop, trying to think of how to phrase what was really bothering you. “Just worried about what will happen when we get back to D’Qar, that’s all.”

            Poe visibly relaxes somewhat as he kisses your forehead again, smoothing down your hair with one hand. “Don’t worry,” he says softly, and his voice is so deep and so calm and yet almost commanding in a way that it makes you relax instantly. “We’ll get through it together, okay?”

            _Together?_ Your heart does a double-take in your chest, and it’s beating so loudly that you can feel it throbbing in your ears. You know your voice won’t be steady if you try to speak now, and so you don’t even attempt it. Instead, you just nod your head forward a few times and reach up to kiss him, gently brushing your fingertips against his cheek before you cuddle back into his chest and try not to entertain any more doubts. They wouldn’t help you, you realized suddenly. Doubts would give your mind something to dwell on, but they wouldn’t improve your situation. They would only make it worse, and for a situation that already seemed to be as bad as it could possibly get, you didn’t need to lower yourself down into that dangerous game of hypotheticals any longer.

            Instead, as you closed your eyes and settled in for the night, you decided to trust him. You decided to trust Poe Dameron. You had already put your life in his hands a multitude of times, and he had never let you down before. Whether it was because of his feelings for you or not, that didn’t matter. As you went to sleep that night, you resolved to do your best to trust him and follow his lead to help get you home. You vowed to trust yourself to make the right decisions, to do what was best in whatever way that happened to mean, and you decided to trust the Force. You didn’t know why, the Force never seemed to do much good for you in the past, but maybe Leia was right. Maybe there was something to the Force after all, and although you weren’t a big believer in things you couldn’t see or touch, you could feel it.

            Just as Poe had crashed the ship down into this planet’s icy surface, you thought you had felt something intangible guiding you to safety. You thought you had imagined it, but if it was the Force, then it was looking out for you, and you could use something looking out for you right now. You weren’t quite sure that there was some cosmic force that controlled your destiny, but if there was, it seemed to want you alive, which only meant that there was some greater purpose that you were yet to serve. You weren’t sure if that meant that your future would lie on Draboon or with the Resistance, but you attempted to find solace in it regardless as you allowed yourself to finally drift off to sleep in Poe’s warm embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go! I honestly hope the wait was worth it! There's only a few chapters left to see where Poe and Reader's story goes from here...


	16. Chapter 16

            You had to pee.

            You were super warm, and you had to pee.

            Those were the first two thoughts that crossed through your mind as you rolled over, immediately finding your face flush against Poe’s chest. For a moment, you had to do a double-take and make sure that you didn’t awake from one dream only to find yourself in another, but no, this was real. The memories of last night started to creep back into conscious recognition, and you could feel your heart beat just a little bit faster as you remembered, well, everything. After waiting for weeks that seemed to stretch on into what felt like an eternity, you had finally slept with Poe Dameron.

            And now you needed to pee. You weren’t sure how connected those thoughts really were to each other, but you could not just comfortably lie there and recline in the comfort of Poe’s arms, or at least, you couldn’t right now. First you needed to relieve yourself, although you weren’t quite sure how to go about doing that with one of Poe’s arms draped over your shoulders. You didn’t want to wake him, and so you gently moved as far away from him as you could before you started to struggle your way out of the sleeping bag. You sit up, sliding your legs out as slowly as possible, but Poe seems like a heavy sleeper and barely stirs as you pull away from him. Once free of the thick fabric, you can feel a chill start to settle on your skin, like stepping out of a warm shower on a cold, rainy day. You quickly crawled over to where your clothes lay discarded on the floor and pulled them on quickly, pulling Poe’s jacket over your shoulders before you cast one longing look back at Poe’s sleeping form. His lips were just slightly parted as he breathed in and out, and you almost felt a little bad about just leaving him there defenseless while you snuck off to pee.

            You resolved to go as fast as possible so that you could slip back into Poe’s arms before he even noticed you were gone, and you step a little ways away from the campsite before you find yourself in a tight cluster of trees that seemed to offer you protection on all sides. Deciding that you were probably not going to find a better spot to do your business, you quickly hunkered down low as you removed your pants, intent on getting this business done as fast as possible. You could feel a knot in the center of your stomach loosen slightly, and as you allowed your eyes to slip shut, you suddenly thought you heard a tree branch snap close to your position.

            You weren’t being too loud, but it was still more than possible that you had been spotted by a First Order Storm Trooper. You had no idea if they were watching or not, but you were suddenly aware of just how vulnerable a position you were in as you silently begged your body to hurry up. After not hearing anything again after about thirty seconds, you resolved that it was just some creature of the woods that had made that sound, and that you were in no immediate danger. Even still, as you stood up and readjusted the hem of your pants around your waist, you heard another twig snap no more than two meters off to your left. This crack was a bit louder, clearly made by something heavy, and you didn’t have a doubt in your mind that it was made by the heavy imprint of someone’s boot. You can feel dread start to spread up through your core as you suddenly turn around, but you can’t see anyone through the thick foliage. Still, that didn’t mean someone or something wasn’t watching you, and so you quickly turned as you started to head back to camp.

            You could just barely see the tent hidden through the trees, and you stepped cautiously and quietly, trying not to make a sound. Even still, your perpetrator must have been a lot closer than you thought, as just as you were about to head through the narrow space between the two trees, you could feel someone grab a hold of your arm. Panic floods through your core as you realize you hadn’t even brought a blaster with you for protection, and that you were now in very, very great danger.

            Without thinking, you crouch down on one knee while your other leg immediately goes up and back. You use their hold on you as leverage as you lean forward, driving your heel into their ribs, and you can hear a grunt as they release their hold on you. Time seems to have slowed to a crawl, and it’s almost as though it stopped completely as you have seconds to deliberate what you should do next, fight or run. There’s always the possibility that they have a blaster in their other hand, and they would shoot you down before you even made it back to the tent.

            That left only one other option.

            You spin around, driving the heel of your palm into their face, momentarily forgetting that if there really was a Storm Trooper behind you, that they would probably be wearing their helmet and thus you were more likely to break your hand then inflict any real damage on them. Fortunately or unfortunately, the person behind you isn’t wearing a helmet, and the heel of your palm misses its mark slightly as it collides against their jaw. Nevertheless, the person behind you stumbles backwards, and you immediately throw one leg back in a fighting stance as you hold up your fists, ready to strike next.

            Until you hear your name, and you suddenly turn around to see Jess emerge through the trees as she wraps her arms around you in a solid embrace. You hug her back, squeezing her just a bit tighter than you really meant to as you rest your chin on her shoulder. “You found us,” you whisper softly, and Jess pulls back suddenly to get a good look at you, holding you at arm’s length as her eyes study your face.

            “Followed the tracker,” she replies simply as she lets you go. “Led us straight to the site of the crash. The thing’s a wreck, but I’m glad to see you’re okay.” A loud moan comes from the ground beside you, and you both glance down in unison to see Snap struggling to get to his feet, one hand clutching his ribs while his other hand uses the tree to brace for support. “Better than him, at any rate.”

            “Sorry,” you offer quickly as you take his bent arm and help him stand upright.

            “Did Poe teach you how to kick like that?” Snap asks as he narrows his eyes at you, and you can’t help but grin sheepishly as you shrug your shoulders.

            “Speaking of,” Jess says as she glances around through the woods. “Where _is_ he? We saw the bailout gear missing, so we know he’s around here somewhere.”

            “Yeah,” you say quickly as you glance back over your shoulder to the tent, where Poe was still probably sleeping. “Yeah, he’s um, he’s probably still asleep. I just had to get up to-”

            “Is that his shirt?” Snap asks suddenly, and your jaw drops slightly before you glance down at yourself. Indeed it was. In the darkness of the tent and in your haste, you hadn’t really realized that you had grabbed his shirt instead of your own as you had slipped into his leather jacket. But now you were standing in front of them, wearing not one but two articles of clothing that belonged to him. You quickly glance down to study the tops of your boots to avoid whatever looks they might be giving you.

            Still, no one speaks, and you shift uncomfortably as you try to think of something, anything, to break the silence. “It might be,” you mutter quietly, and Jess lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a giggle and a snort as she punches your arm lightly.

            “Well, as much as I hate to break this up, we should get out of here,” Jess tells you as she jerks her thumb back over her shoulder, probably in the direction of their own ship.

            “First Order patrols are starting to sweep the planet,” Snap adds, and you can’t help but turn to him as you feel an icy pit start to form in the depths of your stomach. “We managed to take out two squadrons, but we should probably get lost before they send any more.”

            “I’ll wake him up,” you say immediately, and Snap just nods as he points through a hollow in the trees.

            “We’re about twenty clicks that way,” he tells you. “Parked in the middle of a clearing, can’t miss us. We should go back, just in case those Storm Troopers stumble onto our location, but don’t take too long.”

            “Won’t,” you reply quickly as you already start to make your way through the trees. “We’ll be there as soon as we can.” You don’t wait for them to say anything more as you quickly hop nimbly over a few outstretched tree roots, quickly ducking down and making your way through the tent flaps. You almost expect Poe to still be asleep, but he’s sitting up on top of the sleeping bag, tying up the laces of his boots as you enter.

            “Well, that explains what happened to my shirt,” he says with good humor as you enter, and you can’t help but glance down at yourself as you blush. You quickly take the jacket off your shoulders and put it down beside you before you pull it off and hand it to him, trying not to flush at how exposed you suddenly were. Poe actually seems not to notice as he takes his shirt from you and slips it on over his head, and as you struggle to get into your own shirt, you notice that Poe has taken his jacket from beside you and slipped it over his own shoulders.

            You can’t help but sink inwardly, although you weren’t quite sure why. That was _his_ jacket, but for some reason, you just felt better when it was around you. But no, you were headed back to the Resistance base now, and that probably meant that whatever had happened on this planet would stay on this planet, for the safety of you both. “We have to go,” you say quickly as you back out of the tent, Poe following directly behind you. “I ran into Snap and Jess-”

            “Heard your voices,” Poe confirms with a quick nod of his head as he starts to pack up the tent, and you pick up your blaster from the ground as you switch off the safety and hold it in both hands, ready to fire if your position was discovered before you were about to leave. You’re a bit thrown by the fact that Poe hadn’t woken up to you slipping out of bed beside him in the morning but apparently could still wake up to a quiet conversation about thirty feet away, but it was possible that he had woken up only to find you gone and had been getting dressed to come look for you when he had heard you talking to them. “What’s going on?”

            “First Order’s patrolling the area,” you tell him, keeping your voice level and matter-of-fact as you jerk your head in the direction of their ship. “They’ve got a ship parked twenty clicks that way, so they want us to get out as fast as possible.”

            “Shouldn’t be any trouble,” Poe replies. “I’m just about ready to go.”

            “Just about-?” you ask blankly, but you turn around to see that he had packed up the tent and the rest of your supplies in hardly any time at all. Then again, it was probably made to be easily compressible, in the event that the user ever had to pack up to make a very quick escape without leaving their meager supplies behind. “Wow, that was fast.”

            “Glad I didn’t hear that from you last night,” Poe quips, and your jaw opens and shuts without you consciously being aware of it. Poe seems to see the myriad of expressions crossing your face, as he glances down quickly and looks almost apologetic. “Look, I’m sorry-”

            “Don’t be sorry.”

            The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you quickly bite your lower lip as you once again glance down at the tops of your boots. You couldn’t hear him apologize to you for last night, you just couldn’t. You couldn’t bear to hear him tell you that it was a mistake, that he shouldn’t have, that he didn’t mean to take it that far. You honestly didn’t know how you would be able to cope with hearing it if he did, but fortunately, no such words leave his lips.

            He sighs for a moment as he seems to consider how best to explain himself. “I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk this morning,” he offers, and you raise your eyebrows in what you could only imagine to be surprise. Were you surprised? Honestly, you had been hurtling through such extremes of emotions lately, that you could hardly tell what it was that you were really feeling at any given point. “I don’t, uh, I don’t have any regrets about last night, and I hope you don’t either.”

            “None,” you reply as your upper lip quirks into the semblance of a smile. “Except, you know, only that it didn’t last longer.”

            “Agreed,” Poe says as he steps forward, and suddenly his hands are around your shoulders as he pulls you into him, kissing you firmly as he lets one hand rest on the nape of your neck. You kiss him back with equal fervor, and even though a small part of you is truly enjoying this and doesn’t want this to end, you can’t help but think back to what Jess and Snap had said. Your time on this planet was short, and you didn’t want to risk running into trouble with the First Order on the way to the ship.

            “Finish this later?” you whisper gently against his lips, and Poe lets out a small snort of good humor as he plants one firm kiss against your forehead before he pulls away completely. Neither of you know what’s going to happen when you get back to the Resistance base, can’t know, but you were glad to see that you were at least somewhat on the same page, at least in regard to your mutual feelings of attraction towards each other.

            “You ready to go?” Poe asks, and you unwittingly dip your head forward in a brief nod as Poe pulls out his own blaster, checking to make sure the safety is off before he brandishes it out in front of him and gestures with it towards the cluster of trees you had pointed out earlier. “That way, huh? Stay close.”

            You nod your head forward again as you begin to follow Poe through the trees, hopping over gnarled tree roots and doing your best to stay as quiet as possible. You can hear things in the distance, the zoom of a ship’s powerful engines as it makes its way through the planet’s atmosphere, but you’re not quite sure if it’s one of the Resistance ships or one from the First Order. A few times, Poe holds up one hand to stop you and you fall into place behind him, and you’re sure while your inexperienced ears couldn’t tell the difference, his definitely could, and he knew just by the roar of an engine whether a ship was friend or foe. Nonetheless, he doesn’t say anything to you, and you walk in relative silence interrupted only by small warnings to watch out for a potentially low tree branch or to dodge a partially uprooted cluster of vines until you reach their ship.              

            It’s a pretty inconspicuous looking Republic convoy shuttle, but you suppose it has to look that way so as not to draw suspicion from the First Order. “Well, you two took your time,” Jess says as she suddenly steps out of the shadow of the boarding ramp, and her gaze isn’t the least bit subtle as she glances between you. To his credit, Poe just shrugs, as if he wasn’t fazed in the slightest. Instead, he just glances around him before glancing back up the boarding ramp.

            “Snap already on board?”

            “Ready and waiting.”

            “Shall we then?” Poe turns to you, and you quickly and silently dip your head forward as you head up the boarding ramp, with Poe and Jess following at your heels. This shuttle is a bit different from the one you usually flew, and the seating area was located a short ways away from the cockpit. As you slip into your seat, Jess seems to hesitate before she glances from you to Poe.

            “You want to take us home, Black Leader?” she asks, but Poe just shakes his head.

            “No, you got yourselves here, I trust you and Snap enough to make sure we get back to D’Qar in one piece,” Poe replies, and Jess manages a short laugh as she looks pointedly back in your direction with a bemused expression on her face before she turns and heads back to the cockpit. You expect Poe to sit in the seat across from you, but instead he simply takes off his pack and slips into the seat next to you, placing his hand on your knee as he leans in close.

            “See?” he says softly. “Nothing to worry about, we’re on our way back already.”

            You can’t help but feel a crease form in the middle of your forehead as your eyebrows knot together in confusion. “I trusted you,” you say in the same light tone. “I knew your friends would come for us, I never doubted that.” You dip your gaze as you glance off the side. “I just, I don’t know. As terrible as this is to say, I’m not quite sure that I really want to go back just yet.”

            “I know,” Poe replies as his upper lip quirks up in a smile, and you can’t help but return it as you glance back up at him. He glances towards the cockpit, and, seeing no one, reaches forward slightly as he kisses you. You kiss him back, enamored by just the smell of him, as he brushes his thumb against your cheek and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

            “It’s almost a shame they came for us so early,” you tease gently as you pull away. “If we had another couple of hours to ourselves, we might have actually been able to talk.”

            “Something tells me we wouldn’t have gotten to talk much at all,” Poe replies in a light voice, and you can feel your breath hitch in your throat as you lean into him again. Your lips brush against his softly, and you part your lips and tilt your head to the side to give him better access as you can feel the ship rising smoothly into the air. Poe cups your cheek in one hand as he continues to kiss you, and you can feel yourself melting into him before the sound of someone clearing their throat makes you jump away from him quickly.

            “Yeah, I would get that out of the way before we get back to base,” Jess advises as she stands in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, and Poe narrows his eyes at her as he gives her a look. Some silent bit of communication passes between them, and Poe squares his shoulders as he turns to face her.

            “What’s happened?” he asks, and you lean forward in your chair slightly as you turn to face him. His expression is serious now, and Jess hesitates for a moment as she glances over her shoulder back towards the cockpit.

            “Snap wants you up front,” Jess begins quietly, her shoulders slumping slightly. “He’s got, uh, he’s got some stuff to tell you. Leia wants to brief you herself, but he figured it would be better that you knew what you’re walking into.” Her eyes can’t help but travel in your direction, and you can feel your heart skip a beat in your chest as you glance between them. You hadn’t done anything, at least, you didn’t _think_ you had done anything, but something obviously had transpired that directly related to you in some way, and for some reason, you didn’t think that this was only about the recent near-attempt on your life.

            “No,” Poe says as he shakes his head from side to side, and you arch an eyebrow as you turn around to look at him. “No, you take care of things up front. Send Snap back here.” Jess hesitates for no more than a quarter of a second before she nods quickly and ducks back into the cockpit, giving you time to turn back to Poe.

            “You know you don’t need to,” you tell him softly. “I trust you, you know that. Whatever Snap has to tell you-”

            “You should hear it too,” Poe concludes with some finality as he turns back to you. “Besides, this way it saves me the trouble of having to repeat myself.” He raises an eyebrow at you as his upper lip quirks into the semblance of a smile, and you can’t help but let out a snort of good humor as Snap appears in the doorway. “What’s the situation, Snap?”

            “It’s not good, Poe,” Snap replies as he shakes his head, and he takes his time before coming over and sitting down across from you. “A lot happened after you left, I’m not sure where I should start.”

            “Try the beginning,” Poe offers as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair. “Everything seemed fine after we took off from base yesterday morning.”

            “And then shit hit the fan.” Snap glances down and he shakes his head as if he could barely believe what had happened himself. His eyes are wide, and he has the look of a man who is still haunted by whatever dark horrors he had witnessed. You want to call his name, want to shake him out of it, but Poe seems patient to let him gather his thoughts, and so you resolve to do the same. “The First Order _attacked,_ Poe,” he explains at length. “Not just you, but us too. They attacked the _base_.”

            Poe doesn’t move, but the way he seems to hold himself changes somewhat, his energy shifting, becoming tense as he took in this new piece of information. “The General?”

            “She’s fine, Poe,” Snap says, almost somewhat dismissively. “She’s tough as nails, you know that. She’s pissed as all hell, but other than that, she didn’t get a scratch on her.”

            Poe lets out an audible sigh of relief, as if that in itself was a small miracle. “If she wasn’t their target, do you know what was?” Poe asks, and Snap hesitates for a moment, as if he’s trying to think something over.

            “That’s a loaded question,” he tells Poe, and you can sense by the undercurrent in his voice that he’s trying to hint something to Poe without saying it out right.

            “If it has something to do with me, just say it,” you tell him bluntly as you lean forward in your chair. “I know Leia hasn’t trusted my detail from the beginning. Does she happen to think one of my guards is behind the attack?” Snap opens his mouth to answer, but you don’t give him the chance. “Because if what happened yesterday is any indication, someone intentionally hacked the controls hoping to crash my ship. Someone clearly wanted me dead, and I don’t think anyone on my team would be responsible for an attack on me.”

            “No,” Snap replies as he shakes his head. “No, we, uh, for what it’s worth, we don’t think they were, uh, directly involved in what happened, concerning your ship or the _incident_ at the base.”

            He’s taking his time, choosing each word carefully, picking his words up and examining each one before he lets them through his lips, and you don’t understand why. Poe looks at you with a sympathetic expression as if he understands, but you don’t. You look between them, hoping for one of them to clue you in, before Poe softens his voice, speaking slowly and deliberately. “Were there any fatalities in the attack?”

            You can feel the skin on your arms grow cold as you stare into the space on the floor next to Snap’s feet, waiting for him to speak next. “All dead,” he confirms quietly, and you must have made some sort of noise in the back of your throat as Poe quickly reaches over to put a hand on your arm. He’s watching your face intently, studying your expression, but you can’t do much more than just stare at the spot of ground by his feet.

            “When you say _everyone_ ,” you venture quietly, but Poe just shakes his head as if he’s disappointed, although in who or what specifically, you can’t say.

            “Garrett, Toka…” Snap’s voice trails off as he shakes his head, as if he can’t remember the names of everyone else in your detailing. “All of them, I’m sorry.”

            “But why?” you ask, as if you don’t understand, and to tell the truth, you really didn’t. “You make it sound as if the First Order broke into the base to take out my team, specifically.”

            “We’re not sure of anything right now,” Snap replies, but you’re not sure if that’s his way of saying that Leia didn’t want him to talk about their speculations with you or whether they honestly weren’t sure.

            “You’re sure of enough,” you reply evenly, and for the first time, you can feel anger flash through your nerves. Before, you had always faced your situation with a resigned sense of defeat, that you were powerless to do anything to control your situation, but for the first time, you didn’t feel that way. Your team was dead, your _friends_ were dead, and the shock and the pain of that loss had not yet hit you. “Tell me what you _do_ know.”

            Snap looks uncertainly back at Poe who just nods his head, encouraging him to speak, but Snap still seems reserved. “There’s more,” he ventures before he shakes his head again. “It’s not my place to say. I think Leia would really-”

            “Snap.” Your voice is biting, and Poe puts his arm out in front of you, as if to hold you back. You didn’t have any plans to take out your frustration on Snap, but you definitely might be tempted to if he didn’t start talking. “Don’t you see how you’re making this worse for me?” you ask angrily, trying a different approach. “First you tell me my friends are dead, and then you tell me you know why but you don’t want to say?”

            Snap hesitates for a moment before his face hardens and he looks back at Poe. “I’m sorry, Black Leader, but I’m not at liberty to say.” Poe sighs and seems to think this over for a moment, resting his chin in one hand as he trains his eyes on a vacant spot on the wall, apparently lost in thought.

            “Could you tell me?” he asks at length as he turns back to Snap, lowering his hand as he glances between you and Snap. As Snap appears to think this over, Poe turns back to him, seemingly changing his mind. “How much do you know?”

            “Just about everything,” Snap confirms. “I was there when-” He waves his hand in the air in front of him, as if hoping the words would appear of their own accord. “-when certain information was made known to us.”

            “If you don’t feel comfortable telling me, I’ll go,” you sigh as your shoulders slump. The best that you could hope for right now was that Snap would tell Poe and Poe would tell you, and Snap seems to realize this as he glances back towards Poe. Even still, that wasn’t Snap breaking protocol, it was Poe, and you doubted Snap would rat him out anyway. “If that’s a yes, just don’t say anything and I’ll just go wait up front with Jess.” Snap doesn’t say anything right away, opening his mouth before shutting it again, and you just sigh as you shake you head, not giving him time to speak. “I’ll wait up front with Jess.”

            Even Poe doesn’t seem to know what to say as you move past him, heading up the narrow aisle to the cockpit. You’re just about to the entrance when suddenly you freeze, your feet stopping in mid-motion. A chill ran through you, rushed from the soles of your feet, up through your legs, into your chest where it seemed to freeze your heart cold, as if you had just walked through a current. In the back of your mind, you think you can hear a familiar voice whispering your name, but it sounded distant and far away.

            Something was wrong.

            You weren’t quite sure what it was, but you felt a certain coldness seem to latch onto your insides, and you weren’t quite sure how to describe it. No, you had no idea how to explain what this feeling was, but suddenly, all at once, you could feel what was wrong. You could feel your heart cracking and splintering in your chest, and that’s when you suddenly realized that you didn’t need Snap to tell you what had happened. Apparently, a part of you had known all along.

            Keeping your expression quite composed, you turn on your heel and head back into your chair, crossing one leg over the other as you lean forward to rest your elbows against one leg. Snap and Poe are both looking at you curiously, as if they weren’t sure just how to take your sudden change in demeanor. “You know more than you want to say, Snap,” you begin, keeping your voice even. “But you can’t keep everything from me, even if they were Leia’s orders, it’s not right. You don’t need to tell me the other stuff, but I want to know how she died.”

            “How she died?” Poe echoes, clearly confused as he glances between you and Snap. “Who-?” It suddenly hits him just who you were talking about, and his face grimaces as he turns back to Snap, as if almost willing him to say that it wasn’t true. But it was. You knew it was true, and the look on Snap’s face certainly confirmed it if he chose not to say anything. Fortunately, he seems to know that there’s no value in keeping a secret if you already knew what the secret was about, and decides to divulge it to you.

            “How do you know that?” Snap asks, as if he genuinely wants to know. “How could you possibly know-?”

            “Because she’s my mother,” you reply evenly. “And I don’t need the Force or some magical entity to tell me when something bad has happened. I felt it yesterday, I just didn’t know what it was that I was feeling.” You lean back in your chair, still too distressed by the confusion regarding these events to take the time to mourn her properly in the moment. The time for mourning would come later, you knew, when you had come to terms with everything, but right now you had to be logical about this, and for that, you needed facts. “How did she die, Snap?”

            “The First Order,” Snap replies. You search your feelings to see if this is something that hurt, but no, you had almost expected as much. There was no one else who would want to cause her any harm. Snap seems to sense that he’s going to have to reveal something sooner or later, and takes a deep breath before pushing himself out of his seat slightly and turning directly to you. “Look, this is what we know. This went deeper than any of us had known, but maybe you know something that could help us.”

            “How could I have known anything?” you ask as you glance back up at him. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about right now.”

            “A few members of your security detailing were part of a secret organization to subvert the First Order’s possible influence on Draboon,” Snap explains, and your eyes immediately dart to Poe, who just nods his head in confirmation.

            “That must be what Garrett wanted to talk to you about yesterday morning,” he agrees, and you just nod your head slowly as you insert your knuckle in your mouth, grinding the soft skin there between your teeth as you listen to what Snap has to say.

            “The group was called the Rebel Armata,” Snap continues, lowering his voice slightly. “They attacked Kole on Draboon and captured him, then executed him and several members of the royal court in an unknown location after the First Order refused to withdraw their Storm Troopers from your planet. The First Order attacked your palace, and we received word that everyone inside was killed, including all remaining members of the Rebel Armata.”

            You can’t look at him. You can’t look at anyone, and instead you fix your eyes on the empty seat across from you. You had been wondering what to do about your situation with Kole and the First Order, but it turned out that you weren’t alone in that. There were others who were secretly plotting to throw out the First Order as well. You should have guessed that, and yet, why didn’t they come to you? Jeoff and Toka both knew how precarious your situation with the First Order was. Were they afraid that you would tell Poe who would tell Leia who would tell your mother, possibly crushing the nationalistic rebellion before it had even started?

            “So Kole is dead,” you mutter to yourself, almost unable to believe it. To tell the truth, you hadn’t really considered killing him, but apparently that solved the problem of how you were going to escape from your unfortunate betrothal. To tell the truth, the Rebel Armata’s plan hadn’t been a bad one if they hadn’t underestimated their opponent; it may have worked if Draboon was simply at war with another territory, but the might of the First Order extended far beyond Kole Praxton.

            “He is,” Snap confirms. “We saw the holo feed; he’s dead. But the First Order has completely assumed control of Draboon and the Legacy, however, and installed a puppet government in the place of your monarchy.”

            “So I can’t go home,” you say quietly, reading between the lines as your gaze returns to stare at the empty seat across from you. “If I go back, I’m as good as dead.”

            “That’s what they’re counting on,” Snap tells you as he shifts uncomfortably in his chair, glancing back to Poe. “They know you, that both of you, survived the crash somehow. They want us to turn her over peacefully, to assume full control of Draboon, or they will resort to _other_ methods of persuasion.”

            “I don’t understand,” Poe says as he shakes his head. “How did they know where we were? How did they find us? And how did they get into our ranks?”

            “Your shuttle started broadcasting a distress call as soon as you dropped out of hyperspace in Sharlissia before it abruptly cut out. Instead of the bogus Rylothian information, it was identifying as the Draboonian royal yacht _Blue Dawn._ At that point, we immediately knew something had gone wrong and that you had been compromised. That’s what explains how the prowler found you so quickly.” Snap fidgets with the cuff of his sleeve slightly as he talks.

            “On the second one, we don’t really know, to be honest with you. We’re still going over all the feeds, but we know they were able to bypass the access codes in order to make it to the securest sections of the base. We don’t think they were able to get any information, but we’re still not yet quite sure why they were there or what they were hoping to accomplish besides a stealth attack on the Princess. Spotty intelligence reports on the events of Draboon seem to indicate that the defense minister of Draboon was colluding with the First Order and other members of the court to institute a regime change, and a coded message from Draboon was received somewhere on base shortly before the attack.”

            “Leia was afraid that there was a spy on base,” you recall glumly as the recollection springs back into your mind. “And she always thought it was someone from my team. I told her it wasn’t, but she wouldn’t listen.”

            “She listened,” Poe confirms, although the bitterness in his voice is palpable. “She was always on the lookout for signs that someone that we had recruited was playing both sides of the field; she always said she wasn’t quite sure why it hadn’t happened already.”

            “Well, now it has,” you say, shaking your head as you decide to just let go of whatever ill will you had held towards her suspicions. This was something that you knew you shouldn’t take personally. This was politics, and what was more, this was war.

            That was one concept you didn’t think that you had quite grasped up until just this moment. Before, you had always known that there were rules of basic honor and civility that you expected others to follow, but now you were starting to realize the cold hard truth. This was _war_ , where people lived and died simply to benefit their own cause, and if you weren’t prepared to put your life on the line and die for what you believed in, then you were a piece to be manipulated or controlled until you reached the point where you were simply an expendable accessory, and nothing more. Poe was indispensable to the Resistance, even Snap was one of the best pilots of all of the galaxy, as was Jess, but what did you have to contribute? To anything? You had your name and your royal birthright, but what did you _do_?

            Nothing, it turns out, and that was exactly what you had received. You had received nothing from the Resistance because you had nothing to offer them. Your mother had given them financial backing, but that was your mother’s decision, not yours, and besides, that was Draboon’s money. While they could benefit from having a steady relationship with you, Leia, of all people, knew how whimsical the tides of war truly were, and you could only imagine that she had suspected that Draboon would fall, maybe while you were still at the Resistance base. If that was the case, she had seen this coming, and she had more or less always suspected that your life might become a bargaining chip, just as it had been all along.

            “She’s going to turn me over,” you say quietly to yourself as you glance down at your feet. Leia wanted to protect the Resistance. That was her goal. She had created it, and she would do anything, absolutely anything, to see it succeed in her mission of bringing down the First Order, perhaps impelled by the personal goal of stopping her son from going too far over to the dark side before it was too late to bring him back for good. Right now, the Resistance was in a fragile state, and she couldn’t risk another attack. Surely, your group being targeted meant that they _were_ serious when they said they wanted you dead, you, the only person who could probably incite the people of Draboon to rise back up and help you reclaim your rightful throne. To protect her base and her soldiers, as well as innocent people of the galaxy, she would turn you over.

            If you were in her position, you would have done the exact same thing.

            “No,” Poe says immediately as he shakes his head. “No, she’s not going to turn you over. We’re going to figure some other way out of this. The First Order can _demand_ anything, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to give it to them. Right, Snap?”

            Poe glances over at Snap, who just nods slightly before he looks down and away, and that’s when you knew that he had heard what Leia had to say on the matter already, and your suspicions had been confirmed. Leia was going to turn you over in order to protect the Resistance, and while there was a small sense of resignation in your thoughts, something else was stirring too, some small sense of defiance that you had barely entertained before. This was war, all right, and you weren’t lying when you said you didn’t know the first thing about it. But you were going to, not just for yourself, but for your people.

            You just hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

            “We’ll talk to Leia when we get back,” Poe says encouragingly as he places his hand on your arm again, and you nod your head quickly as you force a smile in his direction. Even still, you can’t meet his eyes. You don’t know what you’ll see there, but you don’t want it. Poe cared about you, and while you would have been elated if this was your first or second week at the Resistance, you couldn’t deny that this was dangerous now. His affections for you might put him at odds with Leia, or jeopardize his position with the Resistance. It could even endanger his safety, just like it had back on Bothawui, and you cared about him enough not to put him in that position if you could help it.

            “Yeah, it’ll work out okay,” you say as you dip your head forward in a quick series of nods, hoping that Poe would mistake your words for cautious optimism.

            Hoping that he wouldn’t realize that you had just lied to his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we've reached the obligatory part of the story where the shit has to hit the fan. But is Kole Praxton really dead? And how will the Reader react to this news? There's nothing I can say about next week's chapter except you definitely don't want to miss it. Stay tuned!


	17. Chapter 17

            It was late at night when your ship descended through D’Qar’s pitch black sky, although you supposed that might have just worked out in your favor. The rest of your trip back to base had been quiet, Poe’s mind no doubt filled with thoughts on how to save you, on how to convince Leia that there had to be another way. The truth was that there might have been, but you were no longer prepared to just sit back and let someone else dictate your future. No, while his thoughts had been filled with the task that he deemed close at hand, you had been dreaming, imagining a life for yourself where you could actually contribute something to the Resistance.

            It was possible that Leia might not hand you over, but it was also quite probable that she wouldn’t want you to stay on base either, and then what would you do? Where would you go? You couldn’t return to Draboon, knowing you faced a sure death there, and the First Order would hunt you down and eliminate you as soon as they learned that you were on your own and defenseless. No, it was a bad situation no matter how you wanted to look at it, and you weren’t quite sure what you could do to improve it, other than try to settle things on your own terms. As strange as it was to say, it was almost liberating to consider the possibility of dictating your own future for once. Where would you go? What would you do? For once, you and only you would be able to answer that question, and you wouldn’t have to worry about living up to anyone’s expectations of you. You would be responsible for yourself, and you wouldn’t have to worry about other people’s lives getting caught in the balance.

            “So what happens now?” you ask as the four of you disembark the shuttle. The flight strip is more or less deserted, save for the new guards that were now stationed around the entrance to the base. “Are you going to take me to see Leia now? Wouldn’t she be asleep?”

            “She’s probably not sleeping,” Poe says as he glances over at Snap, who just nods his head in agreement. “Still, I think I should take some time to talk to her and hear what she has to say before you go and visit her. You can see her in the morning. Sound fair?”

            “Yeah, I trust you,” you reply. You don’t mean anything by it, but Jess merely quirks up an eyebrow in response, and you can’t help but blush as you glance away. “Thanks you guys, for coming to rescue us, it means a lot.” You quickly lean forward over to hug Jess, wrapping your arms around her in a firm embrace. Even still, you grabbed the back of her jacket roughly as you pinch and twist the skin slightly, knowing it would prompt a firm reaction. Jess hisses as she roughly pushes you away from her, while Snap and Poe look on in confusion.

            “Sorry,” you reply lamely. “Slipped.”

            Jess opens her mouth to say something, but stops as Poe puts a hand on your arm. “It’s been a long day,” he offers. “Let’s get you back to your room so you can get some rest, huh?”

            “Yeah,” you say quickly as you look up at him. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” You turn around and give them a quick wave as you head off beside Poe, heading into the hangar. All of the guards greet Poe as you pass, and in the back of your mind, it only furthered your resolve to go ahead with the plan that had started as a whim and was now looking more and more to be a tangible reality. The seeds of this plan had been planted in the back of your mind while you were heading back to D’Qar, and in barely any time at all, it seemed as though they had almost reached fruition.

            “You doing okay?” Poe asks as you finally walk through the long stretch of corridors that head back to your room. “It’s okay if you’re not.”

            “It’s a lot to take in,” you admit. “It’s a lot to process. My whole life, I’ve had this whole destiny mapped out for me, and now I don’t really know where to go from here. The First Order has my planet, and if Leia has anything to say about it, they might have my life as well. Kole’s dead, and I don’t know if whoever is ruling my planet now would be any kinder than he would have been to me.”

            “She’s not going to send you back there,” Poe says as he shakes his head. “She’s strategic, but she’s not barbaric. She knows what it would mean to send you back there, and she’s not going to do it. We’ll find some other way.”

            “You’re putting a lot on the line for me,” you say softly as you glance up at him, but Poe just shakes his head.

            “It’s about principle,” he tells you firmly. “To send you back now would mean that we’re no better than the First Order.” He swivels his neck to look back behind him before he drops his voice somewhat. “But I think after what happened last night, I don’t think there’s any point in trying to deny that I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

            “I just-” you hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out the words you really wanted to say. “I just don’t want you to risk anything for me, Poe. I don’t want you to risk your position here just because of me. People here look up to you and respect you and you are _vital_ to the Resistance, Poe. I’m not.”

            “Maybe not yet,” Poe offers. “But you can stay, earn your keep. You’re becoming a fantastic pilot, don’t underestimate yourself.”

            “But I’ve never flown in a real combat zone,” you counter as you look up at him, trying to keep your voice even. “And let’s face it, you would never let me fly with you, and I wouldn’t want to. You’d be too worried about making sure that I was okay that it would completely distract you from completing your mission, and I don’t want anything to happen to you while you’re watching out for me.”

            “Okay, no flying,” Poe agrees with a quick shake of his head. “But there’s things you can do here for the Resistance. It’s a team effort, and despite what you may think, you _are_ wanted here. I haven’t met anyone here that’s had a bad word to say about you.”

            “Because I’ve barely spoken more than three words to a majority of people on this base,” you point out. “But if they find out that I’m the reason that a First Order spy attacked here in the first place, that I’m the reason that another one may strike again? I don’t know, I don’t want to think about that.”

            “And you shouldn’t, because it’s not going to happen,” Poe replies firmly. “We’re going to increase our defenses; I’m sure the General has already been working on different strategies to employ. You’ve already noticed the increased security around the hangar, and I’m sure there have been a ton of other changes made while we’ve been away.”

            “A lot can happen in a day,” you agree with a small nod of your head, and your insides twist suddenly as you realize that you’re nearing your door. Poe seems to notice it too as his pace slows just a fraction, but you still notice it nonetheless. “Looks like we’re just about here.”

            “Looks like.” Poe glances down at you outside your door like he’s not sure what to say, which was more than fair, considering you doubted you knew how you were going to reply. “I’m going to see General Organa now,” he finally manages. “But would you like me to stop by, after I’ve seen her?”

            Poe seems almost nervous for the first time ever, and as endearing as it was, you just gnaw on your lower lip as you shake your head from side to side. “As much as I think we both know I want that to happen, I don’t know how long you’ll be with her for and I don’t know if we should risk things just yet. I’ll see you bright and early for the meeting tomorrow anyway, right?”

            “Bright and early,” Poe confirms, and he glances left and right down the deserted hallway before he takes your face in both hands and plants a kiss firmly on your parted lips. You just barely have time to register the action and kiss him back before he pulls away, quickly glancing back down the hallway again as if he was afraid that someone had appeared in the tenth of a second it had taken him to complete the action. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Get some rest.”

            “Yeah,” you reply softly, and Poe forces his lips to quirk upwards in a soft smile as he gives you a small wave and heads back down the corridor. With nothing left on your hands but time, you quickly turn around and head back inside. Your apartment didn’t seem any different from the last time you were here, except you couldn’t deny that you suddenly felt extremely unwelcome. There was just something in the room that didn’t feel right to you, something about the way the air settled on your skin that seemed to turn your insides cold. You considered taking a shower, but you didn’t know how long this would take, and time was short. You would have to act fast once the moment arose.

            Instead, you just sit down on the couch and draw your knees into your chest as your eyes travel the room. Unfortunately, they settle on the chair that Garrett usually sat in, and all at once it occurs to you that he was gone. Dead. He wasn’t coming back, and you were never going to have the opportunity to speak to him again. You knew what the word meant, but somehow trying to rationalize it in your mind almost made it seem impossible. Garrett was there before you left and suddenly he was just wiped out by the First Order? While you had walked through the corridors, you had seen the telltale marks of a fight by the scorches of blaster fire on the wall, but you had forced yourself not to look at them, tried to pretend that they had always been there and you simply hadn’t noticed them before.

            But now there was no denying his absence. Now you were taking notice of the things that were invisible, the things that weren’t there that you had taken for granted, like a chair at the kitchen table that no one appreciated until it was gone. Garrett, the rest of your team, your mother? They were all gone, victims of the First Order, and there was nothing you could do or say to bring them back. There was no strategy, no bargaining chip, nothing the First Order wanted but to eliminate their political opponents and crush everyone who got in their way.

            Which now meant you. Your mother had appealed to them, and now you were starting to understand why she had done it. It had been to protect you, and you almost couldn’t believe that you hadn’t realized it before. You hadn’t agreed with it then, hadn’t believed that she would even go so far as to risk your security in marrying you off to Kole, but perhaps she knew that this was the alternative. Perhaps she had already been informed that there was a First Order spy in the ranks of the Resistance and a plot to kill you both but couldn’t tell you such information over recorded channels. You had barely been able to agree on anything, but she had always done her best for you, hadn’t she? And if not for you, then she had always tried to do her best for the people of Draboon. You hadn’t been able to understand why she did half the things she did, but you were starting to learn that people did what they did for a multitude of different reasons, and maybe you just weren’t experienced enough to understand all the complexities in the decisions that she had to make.

            You want to cry, but the tears won’t come. In the back of your mind, you almost feel as though you _should_ cry. Crying felt right. Crying was what people did when they were upset, when they didn’t know how to react, but instead it just felt like there was a giant, gaping hole in your core that was growing larger and larger with each passing second, sapping you of your strength and your warmth and your resilience and your ability to fight back. For a moment, you were almost sure that if Leia decided to send you back, you wouldn’t argue it at all. You would just go, and you would die with your people, and that would be that. The circle of life would be complete, and the First Order’s political acquisition of Draboon would be successful and unchallenged for possibly decades to come.

            Fortunately, you’re roused from such sober thoughts as you hear a knock on the door, and you can’t help but let out a small sigh of relief as to get up to open it, knowing that your time was soon coming to an end, and you wouldn’t have to be plagued by your thoughts any longer. Maybe you were still too grief-stricken and in shock to be thinking this matter over rationally, but your mind felt surprisingly clear as you pull open the door to see a familiar face standing there.

            “Why did you do that?”

            Jess seems annoyed as she crosses her arms over her chest, a frown etched into her features. You hadn’t expected her to be this upset, although you may have underestimated how much that had hurt.

            “I needed to talk to you,” you explain quickly as you hold open the door. “Alone.”

            “So you pinched me?” Jess just shakes her head. “I’m tired, okay? Whatever you have to say, it couldn’t have waited until later?”

            “No, it’s urgent,” you insist. “That’s why I had to do something to get your attention. Can you please come in so we can talk?”

            It’s all you can do not to grit your teeth in frustration as Jess shakes her head. “It’s been hell for us here too, okay? I really just want to head to bed. Can you just tell me what it is so I can go get some rest?”

            She _looks_ tired, and you’re almost surprised you hadn’t noticed it before. She had dark circles under her eyes, and as she crosses her arms over her chest, you decide to just go ahead and ask. “Give me your blaster.”

            Jess blinks as if she hadn’t heard you correctly before she just shakes her head. “My blaster? Are you nuts? What do you plan to do with it?”

            “I’m planning to escape.” Your voice is even, matter-of-fact, and you can tell that you now have Jessika’s full attention.

            “You think Leia is really going to hand you over to the First Order?” Jess asks skeptically, but the bit of concern that leaks into her voice is all you need.

            “I think it’s possible,” you admit. “But I don’t want to have to put her in that position. I don’t want to put _Poe_ in that position. You both risked your lives for me on Bothawui, and then look at what happened just now. The base was attacked and people were killed. If any more of them die, that’s on me, and I’m not going to let that happen.”

            “So what are you going to do?” Jess asks as she tilts her head to the side. “Head back to Draboon yourself?”

            “No,” you admit as you think it over. “No, I don’t know what I’m going to do or where I’m going to go, but all I know is that I can’t stay here.” Jess looks uneasy, and you know that you still have one card in your deck to sway her over to your side. “Look, Jess, you saw what happened while we were out there. Poe likes me and I like him and that’s great, but he’s already risked too much for me, and if I stay, he’s only going to risk more. Think about it. He’s a good leader and a great pilot, and I don’t want him to give up the position that he has because of me.” Jess slowly nods her head in time to your words, and you keep going, almost slightly excited by the prospect that you may actually be going through with this. “Think about it. Poe would do anything, absolutely anything, for the people that he cares about, including sacrificing his place here for me. I don’t want to see him do that, do you?”

            “No,” Jess admits as she shakes her head, glancing up at you again. “No, you’re right, he would…”

            “…and he’s too valuable to the Resistance to risk it for me,” you say quickly. “So what do you say, blaster?”

            “What are you going to do with it?” Jess asks skeptically, although she’s already placed her hand on her holster. “Are you actually going to try to fight your way off this base?”

            “I don’t think I’ll need to, but I’d like to have it for protection, just in case,” you admit. “But I’m not going to shoot anyone if I can help it, and if I do, all of the shots will be non-lethal, I promise. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to take anyone’s life. I want to _save_ lives, that’s why I need to go.”

            “I don’t understand,” Jess replies. “The First Order wants us to turn you over to them. Even if you run away, they’re still going to attack, you leaving doesn’t change any of that.”

            “No, they want me dead,” you clarify. “So that’s what I need to do. I need to kill myself in a very public way so the galaxy can see that there’s nothing left of me and the First Order can complete their occupation of Draboon without having to worry about me. That’s what they really want, and that’s what I can give them, if I-”

            “Wait, wait, wait,” Jess says, and you can tell by the way that her voice wavers and the haunted expression on her face that she looks almost terrified now. “You’re going to _kill_ yourself? How-?”

            “I think it’s better if you don’t ask questions,” you say after a moment, keeping your face even, and Jess stares at you for a long time before she slowly nods her head forward, as if she’s beginning to understand.

            “What will I tell him?” she asks quietly after a long pause. “What will I tell Poe?”

            “Don’t tell him anything,” you say as you shake your head. “I’ll leave him a note, but other than that, he doesn’t need to know.”

            “He’s smart enough to figure out what you’re planning on his own,” Jess points out, but you just shake your head.

            “I think right now it’s better that I get gone and stay gone,” you tell her as you roll your shoulders. You could feel doubts starting to creep up in your core, making you nauseous, making you sick, but you push them down and away. “Believe me, I would stay if I could, but right now it just doesn’t seem right. I need to, I’m sorry, but right now I need to go.”

            “You have no idea if it’ll work,” Jess points out, but you just shake your head.

            “Then that ends that and no one has anything more to worry about,” you tell her.

            “Yeah, but how will _I_ know?” Jess asks, her forehead creasing in concern. “If you make it convincing enough-”

            “It’ll have to be convincing enough,” you interject. “No one will be able to be one hundred percent sure. That’s the whole point, but I think, at least this way, I can give something back to the Resistance. I think, at least this way, I’m doing the right thing.”

            “Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Jess asks. “Maybe you should wait and talk to Leia first. It’s late and you-”

            “Has to be now,” you reply simply. “Poe’s talking to Leia, and they’re going to be having that conversation for a while, I have a feeling. As long as I can get through D’Qar’s atmosphere, I think I can do the rest myself.”

            “You’ve never actually flown out of the atmosphere yourself,” Jess reminds you, but you just roll your shoulders. You had done it plenty of times with Poe sitting next to you, and you doubted doing it yourself would really be all that much different. If you pretended Poe was beside you, pretending he was there talking you through it, then you had no doubts that you would be able to do it when it really counted. “Are you really sure about this?”

            “I have to be,” you reply simply. “Worst case scenario is Leia wants to hand me over, and even if she doesn’t, the First Order may attack the base again, and I don’t want to give them a reason. I mean, they may anyway, but at least this way that blood isn’t on my hands.”

            “I’d try to talk you out of this, but…” Jess’s voice trails off as she looks up at you again. “You’re pretty set on this, aren’t you?”

            “I don’t like it, but this is the way it has to be,” you say firmly. “If there’s another way out of this, I don’t know what it is but I don’t want to wait long enough to find myself in an even worse situation than before. I have to do this, Jess. I’m sorry, but I have to.”

            “It’s not me you should be apologizing to,” Jess says softly as she pulls a blaster out of her back holster. “Here, this is the one you left on the shuttle when you got off.”

            “No one saw you take it, right?” you ask anxiously as you glance up at her. “I don’t want you to get in trouble for helping me.”

            “No,” Jess replies as she shakes her head. “No, Poe might suspect something, but I don’t think he realized that you left it behind.”

            “Yeah, well,” you shrug uncomfortably before you turn to face her, suddenly feeling like you’re seeing her for the first time. “Thank you, Jess, for everything, and I mean that. I don’t know how to put it into words, but-”

            “Stop,” Jess says quickly as she raises a hand. “I don’t want to say goodbye, not like this. You go do what you have to do, and we’ll just say that maybe we’ll see each other again someday, okay?”

            “Okay,” you say with a light laugh. “Okay, yeah, I think I like that. I think that’s fair.”

            “Good,” Jess replies as she gives you a quick wave. “Now I got to go before anyone sees me and asks any questions about where I’ve been. I plan to just head back to my room and pass out for the next twelve hours. Will you-?”

            “I’ll be long gone by then,” you confirm, and Jess seems to consider this for a moment before she nods to herself.               

            “Then I guess this is where we part ways,” she says with a quick nod of her head. “Good luck.”

            “Thanks,” you reply softly as you watch her head off down the hall, and you quickly turn around and shut the door, pressing your back up against it as you face the room. You had everything that you needed now, well, almost everything. You head into your room and move in stiff, robotic motions as you gather a few of your simpler articles of clothes that would in no way associate you with Draboon. Your realized almost immediately that your hair would have to be bleached in order to rid it of the rich blue shade, but that was something you could worry about when you arrived at your destination, if you arrived. Even still, you make sure to stuff a fair amount of galactic credits into every pocket that you could fill and stuff your pack with the rest. Now that you were distancing yourself of any affiliation of your former planet, at least temporarily, you wouldn’t have your royal fortune to fall back on, and you would have to survive just like everyone else in the galaxy, using your wits and your training.

            Paper was a rarity in the galaxy, but fortunately you had that and a spare pen tucked away in order to leave a note for Poe. It seemed more appropriate than just leaving a datapad with your emotions written in neat, robotic lettering for him to find. No, you wanted to write something emotive, something for him to remember you by if your risky plan just happened to backfire on you, and so you sat down on the living room couch and leaned over the table, writing whatever flowed into your head. It was almost embarrassing to admit this to him in writing, embarrassing to think that it was more than possible that someone else would find this before he did, but it had to be said. It had to be. When you were finished, you simply folded up the note and wrote his name on the front, leaving it front and center on the table for him to find.

            It was risky to just leave that there where anyone could find it, but then again, rumors of your involvement had already been swirling around base for a long while, and you didn’t think anyone would be all that surprised to learn that they were true. If anything, you were almost certain that Poe would be the first one to inspect your room regardless, desperate for any sign or clue that revealed just where you went if your plan happened to backfire in some way.

            But it wasn’t going to backfire. You weren’t going to let it. You had made a mistake before, leaving everything to chance, waiting to see where the chips fell before you made a decision, and that was not going to happen again. That was _never_ going to happen again. You would not let your previous inability to act become a lasting mistake when this time you could take control and resolve the situation that you were in. It was dangerous, and it was risky, and in the back of your mind, you hoped that it would be a move that Poe would have been proud of.

            You strap your small pack onto your back before you head out into the hall, taking deep breaths in and out to steady your breathing. As you took a few steps down the hall, you realized that you had left your keycard still in your pocket, but it was too late to turn back now. If you went back you might start getting cold feet, and you couldn’t risk that, not when they were already carrying you towards your already uncertain future. There was always a chance that you could be captured and having it on you would only jeopardize the safety of the Resistance, but you were almost certain that Leia would have it deactivated as soon as they realized you were missing, and then it would be nothing more than a small bit of plastic and circuitry.

            As you round the corner towards the hangar, you can see the guards still strolling about, although you didn’t recognize any of their faces. You didn’t believe you had met any of them before, and in the back of your mind, you wondered how many other Resistance fighters had died when the First Order had attacked the base. Too many, probably, although even if you learned that only one person had given their life trying to defend the base, that was still one person too many. Maybe it was your fault, maybe the First Order was simply looking for a good excuse to target the Resistance and the insurgency on Draboon gave them one, but either way, it was all going to end today.

            “Where are you going?” One of the guards stops as he turns to look at you, one of the final two that guarded the entrance to the hangar.

            “I forgot something in the ship,” you reply lamely, feeling the blaster press uncomfortably into your lower back as you shuffle your legs nervously. “Can I please go back and get it?”

            “What’d you forget?” the other guard asks, and as they both turn to you, their shoulders square up and completely block the way.

            “Something small.” You dip the toe of your boot into the ground as you talk, trying to stay coy. “Something that reminded me of home, can I please just go get it? I’ll be right in and out. I think I know where it fell.”

            “Whatever it is, you can get it in the morning,” one of the guards says as he gives his head a shake. “No one’s allowed onto the flight line until morning.”

            “But you are,” you point out as you point over his shoulder. “See, the ship is there, it’s _right_ there. Can you please get it for me? It’s a small blue lapis bauble that my mother gave me.”

            “Can’t it-?”

            “Please.” Your voice comes out much more needy than expected, wet and shaking with tears that hadn’t yet fallen. It surprised even you, but fortunately not enough to completely distract you from your mission at hand. “Please, she just died. The First Order killed her and I just, I really need it right now. I can’t sleep without it. Can I please go get it?”

            One of the guards sighs as he turns to look at the other, shaking his head slowly. “I’ll go.” The other guard looks like he’s about to protest before he starts heading off, and as the other guard watches him go, you realize that you had to take this opportunity. Once you did, there would be no forgiveness, no going back, but you had to do what needed to be done. In the split second he has his back to you, you deftly pull the blaster out from the waistband of your pants. It was already set to stun, and while you aim from the center of his back, the biggest target, it hits just below his right shoulder blade.

            He lets out a cry as he goes down, and the other guard spins around quickly, raising his own blaster into the air. Fortunately, your blaster is already out and you fire three shots in quick succession, hitting him square in the gut with the second shot. He goes down, falling backwards, and you don’t waste any time as you pump your arms at your sides, making a break for the shuttle. Anyone could have heard the sound of blaster fire, certainly the other guards manning the corridors nearby did, and you quickly run onto the boarding ramp as soon as it descends, climbing into the cockpit as you start up the ship quickly, just the way Poe had taught you. As soon as the reactor is ready, you divert all power to the engines and dart away from the surface.

            As the ship climbs into the air and rapidly propels itself towards the apex of D’Qar’s atmosphere and the dark, vast space beyond, the comm suddenly crackles into life and you realize that you had forgotten to turn it off. “Your Majesty, all flight operations on D’Qar are restricted and you’re wanted for questioning. Please return to the landing strip at once or prepare to be taken in.”

            Your heart leaps in your chest as you realize that this is it, this was done. There was no going back now. The second you had shot that guard, you had sealed your fate and burned all other bridges that you could have crossed. No, now there was only one other avenue that was available to you, and you were going to take it, not only for yourself, but for your people, for the Resistance, and for Poe Dameron.

            You just continue along your ascent until you finally break through D’Qar’s atmosphere, and while you know that they’re probably mobilizing a force to go after you, you’ve got too much of a head start for them to properly catch up to you before you did what needed to be done. You set a course for the northeast, towards the remote planet of Rugosa, figuring that might be the safest place to go. While you did have a head start, this ship probably had a tracker, and the longer it took you to try to fly anywhere, the easier it was going to be for them to find you.

            As you disengage the hyperdrive over Rugosa, you suddenly hear another voice float through the comlink, a voice that you were hoping you wouldn’t have to hear again. Fortunately for you, it wasn’t soft and gentle like it had been the past few days. No, this voice was rough, firm and authoritative, and in the back of your mind, you silently thanked him for making this easier. “Princess, do you mind telling me what you’re doing?”

            You want to ignore it, but you can’t. Hearing his voice has stirred something up inside of you, emotions that you would have preferred not to be feeling. Still, they were there, and there wasn’t anything you could do to push them away as you press the button on the comm channel to respond. “Poe, I don’t expect you to understand what I’m doing, but I’m going to need you to trust me.”

            “That’s a negative,” is Poe’s immediate reply, and you can’t help but feel your heart sink in your chest before you realized that Leia and other key members of the Resistance were probably there, listening to this right now. You didn’t know if that made you feel any better or worse, but you still didn’t know if you were going to be able to pull yourself out of this, and this was _not_ the way that you wanted to remember your time spent with Poe.

            Unfortunately, that seemed like just another choice that was taken from you.

            “I’m not going to let you or anyone with the Resistance take the fall for this,” you shout into the comm suddenly, compelled by new emotion, and there’s silence on the other end for a moment.

            “Take the fall for-?”

            “The First Order needs me to secure their hold on Draboon,” you practically yell. Each moment that passes is bringing you closer and closer to the inevitable end of your time with the Resistance, possibly of your time in the galaxy, and for a moment you weren’t sure if you wanted to go through with this at all. But you had to. You knew you had to. “If you don’t hand me over, they might attack again, and I don’t want to risk your life or anyone else’s. No one is going to die for me. Not again.”

            “And no one has to.” Something cracks in Poe’s voice, and you’re almost pleased to hear it. “Just come back, okay? Just turn the ship around, and come back. I know you’re scared, but we can talk this out.”

            “Too late, Poe,” you reply quietly as you glance away from the comm, as though you can’t even bring yourself to look at the damn thing.

            “You don’t have to do this,” Poe says firmly, his voice ringing in the still air of the cockpit. “Does the First Order know where you are? Where are you meeting them?”

            “What?” You pause for a moment, completely confused, but you catch onto his meaning, although you can’t say that you like it. How would you even have had communication with the First Order in order to set up a rendezvous with them and turn yourself over? “I haven’t talked with anyone from the First Order, Poe. Right now I’m just a bargaining chip, and I’m taking myself out of the equation.”

            “No.” Poe’s response is firm and immediate. “No, oh no. You’re not going to do this. Turn the ship around right now. That’s an order.”

            “You can’t order me-”

            “You’re a part of the Resistance now,” Poe tells you, and for a moment you’re not quite sure whether or not to believe him. Did Leia want you to stay? Did Leia want you to help her fight against the First Order? “Show us that you belong here. Prove to _me_ that you belong here. Just turn the ship around and come home.”

            _Home._ It may have made a convincing argument if he hadn’t let those last words slip. Your home wasn’t with the Resistance. Your home was on Draboon, and now that home was taken from you. Right now you were a nomad, a vagabond, and there was no way that you could go back there. “I can’t yet,” you reply after a brief pause. “I’m sorry, but I can’t come back just yet. It’s not right.”

            “What’s not right?” You can practically hear the anxious murmur in Poe’s voice, but you don’t know what to say. If Leia and the others were listening in, you didn’t want to be the one to out what you had done and possibly get him into trouble, but at the same time, he needed to know that this wasn’t his fault.

            “You’ve been incredibly kind to me, Poe Dameron,” you say evenly, trying to choose your words carefully. “The Resistance is lucky to have you, and I’m lucky to have known you. The Force willing, maybe we’ll meet again someday. If we do, things will be different then. Until that time, I can only thank you for the foundation you’ve helped build for me, and hope I can get the rest of the way on my own.”

            “What are you talking about?” Poe demands, and you can tell right now that he doesn’t understand what you’re saying. To be fair, you’re not honestly sure if you’re actually speaking or just blubbering words through the comm, but either way, it doesn’t matter now. Rugosa was getting closer, and you take a deep breath as you lean forward and survey the console in front of you. It would have to be now, it had to be. Any later, and you could screw this whole thing up for good. You close your eyes as you switch over a lever on the console, pressing the two buttons that flash crimson before you engage the lever again.

            Poe’s voice is urgent as his voice comes back over the com. “Princess, did you just eject the reactor core?”

            “Looks like I did, Black Leader,” you reply evenly as you head towards Rugosa’s rocky plain. You would only have one chance at this, and you could feel your hands shaking on the controls as you prepared to enter its atmosphere.

            “Don’t do this.” Poe’s voice is practically dripping with desperation as it comes through the console, loud and erratic. “I know you think that you have no other way out of this, but you do, okay? Come back, please come back, okay? Whatever you need us to do, we’ll do it. It’s not too late, just please stop this, _please_.”

            “That’s the problem.” You don’t mean to snap at him, but you can’t help it. “I care about you. I care about Leia. I care about Jess. I care about everyone there. People have died for me already, and I’m not worth it. I know you think I am but I’m no one. I’m nothing. You’re fighting a war, you’re protecting people’s lives, and I’m just sitting back playing pretend. I wanted to learn to fly because I thought it would be cool, because it would be a neat skill to have, and look at what’s happened. Look at how many people have died because of my decisions.”

            “You couldn’t have known.” Poe’s voice is quieter, wary now. “You couldn’t have known that that was going to happen, but it doesn’t matter. I know you’ve lost everyone closest to you, but you still have friends here. You haven’t lost them and you haven’t lost me.”

            He doesn’t say anything more. In the back of his mind, he’s begging you not to disappoint him, begging you to relent, but you’re entering the atmosphere now and there’s nothing you can do as you head straight towards a rocky cliff face with no way of slowing your speed. “I know,” you reply quietly, your voice breaking, and that almost makes it worse. “But I can’t watch you keep risking your life for me. If anything happened to you because of me, on top of the blood that’s already on my hands, I wouldn’t be able to deal with it, so just, I’m sorry, okay?” You hesitate for a moment before you pull back on the controller and press a few select buttons on the console. “I’ve disabled the controls.”

_“No!”_

            Poe is shouting through the commlink now, and you quickly switch it off. There were probably a million more things you could think of to say to him, but the rocky earth was rising up to the crystalline glass of the shuttle’s windshield, and you just didn’t have time. Quickly, you get up and make your way towards the boarding ramp and descend it partially. You were only going to have one shot at this, but fortunately the ground beneath you looked to be covered in a thick layer of sand, and you could only hope that you wouldn’t incur any serious injuries from the fall. Still, if you stayed on the ship, you knew without a doubt that you were not going to make it, so you curl your knees into your chest and drop onto your shoulder, letting yourself roll clean off the boarding ramp.

            For a moment, you don’t feel anything. For a brief second, you’re entirely weightless, your body flying through the air from the momentum of the ship, before your shoulder suddenly hits the ground, hard, as if someone had struck you with a solid block of steel. You roll to the side over and over again, coarse sand striking at your hands and your face and any bits of exposed skin as you roll and tumble against the hard ground until you finally come to a stop. You barely even have time to catch your breath before your ears are filled with blast of a deafening explosion nearby, and you throw both of your arms over your head to shield yourself from the heat of the blast. You can feel it pulsing against your skin like bright sunlight, and you stay on the ground for a moment, trying to force air in and out of your lungs.

            Your breathing was labored and your chest ached, but fortunately it didn’t seem as though you had cracked any ribs. No, as you slowly pulled yourself into a kneeling position, you were almost sure that your legs were okay. Bruised from the fall, yes, the outside of your right thigh had struck a large coral outcropping when you were rolling and ached something fierce, and your neck _hurt_ as you stiffly tried to move it up and down and left to right, but other than that, you were alive. And as you turned to face the burning wreckage of the ship sending a dark plume in the sky that would surely call the Resistance’s attention, you were sure of something else too.

            They were probably most definitely sure that you were not.

            Slowly, you tried to force another deep breath into your lungs as you turned away from the crash. It wouldn’t take them long to get here at all, and you had to move. You had to find a cavern where you could hide out and lie low for a while, or, more preferably, one of the planet’s Toydarian settlements where you could hop on a ship and make it out of here as fast as possible. A girl with bright blue hair would be easy to notice here, but in a crowded place like Coruscant? Corellia? Hosnian Prime? No, it would be easier to blend into the crowds there until you had time to change your appearance.

            And then where would you go from there? How would you make money? How would you survive? You could fly a transport, you were pretty certain about that now, but what else could you do? What other skills did you have that were hidden, even from you? You weren’t sure, but you were going to find out. All along, you had always thought you had known who you were. You were always the Princess of Draboon, whose fate was wrapped up in the future of her planet, but that wasn’t true anymore. Maybe it would be, someday, but first you had to learn the skills that were required of you to survive in the galaxy before you could even think about taking on the First Order and taking back your planet.

            But it couldn’t be done with the Resistance. Leia had already made it clear that this wasn’t her fight, and you were starting to understand why, and she was right. It wasn’t her fight. But it was your fight. It was your planet, and now that your mother was gone, you were the rightful Queen of Draboon, and now it was up to you to take back your birthright. You weren’t quite sure how you were going to do it, but maybe, just this once, you could trust in the Force that everyone was always talking about. Surely if it was such a cosmic entity that was compelled to assist in the highest good, then it would be able to help you as well.

            Maybe. You would be patient and learn what the galaxy wanted to teach you, and hopefully in return, the First Order wouldn’t completely decimate your planet before it was too late. All you could do was hope, but it was something. As long as you had hope, you still had a chance, and as you headed off towards the horizon, you hoped that this wasn’t the end of your story.

            If anything, you hoped that this was only the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I'm going to say is that Reader's still alive, and so the story isn't over yet! Stay tuned, I update next Sunday as scheduled!


	18. Chapter 18

               “I’ve disabled the controls.”

               _“No!”_

And just like that, the feed cut out. He could hear the steady pulse of silence in his eardrums despite the mechanical whir and beep of consoles all around him. He could feel his fingertips twitch as he mentally resisted the urge to try to reestablish the connection, but he already knew that it was no use as a tiny, blinking red dot suddenly disappeared from their scanners.

               Were you dead? Were you gone? And, more importantly, was this his fault? He knew that you were upset by what had happened. You hadn’t cried the rest of the way back, just sat in unbroken, stunned silence, but that was a classic symptom of shock. He had seen it happen to many others before, and, he suspected, he would see it plenty more times in the future. He hadn’t wanted to leave you alone, but he understood that maybe this was something that you needed to deal with on your own. He thought that maybe you were too proud to cry in front of him, that you were waiting to get back to the safety of your room to deal with your grief outright.

               The last thing he expected was for you to run, let alone try and take your own life.

               “Send a team to Rugosa. Recover the flight computer and any intact ordnance on that shuttle, and collect whatever personal effects you can find. Scrub the flight log at all costs. Our location _must_ remain secret.”

               He’s barely aware of the General standing behind him as he tries to get up, only to feel a hand rest on his shoulder. “You should go get some rest, Poe.”

_Rest?_

               Now he does get to his feet as he spins around to face her. He was so tired he felt like he was lugging a weight around in his chest, but the blood in his arms twitched with quick, excited energy. “Sleep?” he echoes as he spreads his hands at his side. “You saw what happened. I need to go with them. I need to go to Rugosa.”

               “No.” Leia’s voice is firm yet calm. He almost expected her to be angry, but if anything, she looks surprisingly sympathetic.

               It was clear that this wasn’t up for discussion, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t try. “She could still be alive. If she is, I can help bring her back.”

               “By saying what?” Leia asks simply as she gestures to the control panel. “You tried, Poe. She doesn’t want to come back.”

               “Because she’s scared,” Poe retorts. “Because-”

               “It doesn’t matter,” Leia says quietly, her voice full of that same motherly calm. “It’s done, Poe. Get some rest. If she’s alive, we’ll bring her back here. Otherwise I’ll brief you on the status in the morning.”

               “Right.” Poe just shakes his head as he turns and heads out of the control room, trying to ignore Leia’s sympathetic gaze. It wasn’t what he needed right now. Right now he needed General Organa to be firm and uncompromising with him, to scold him for letting him develop personal attachments that would hinder his focus and distract him from his objectives. He didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for him. He didn’t need anyone to feel sorry for him. He wasn’t the one in pain. You were, and somehow, he had failed to notice.

_“Poe?”_

_“Mm?”_

_“What happens now?”_

_“Hm?”_

_“What happens now? I mean, once we get back to D’Qar, what happens then?”_

               Without even realizing where he’s going, he suddenly realizes that his feet are carrying him to the med bay. Fortunately for him, it looks like the two guards have already been patched up and it looked as though they were just about ready to head back for the night.

               “Hey,” Poe says, trying his best to put on a friendly face. “Glad I caught you guys. We have a few questions for you.” One of the guards opens his mouth to complain, but Poe just holds up his hand to stop him. “Five minutes, that’s it. If it takes longer than that, feel free to just walk right past me.”

               One of the guards lets out a snort of good humor. “We’ll hold you to that.”

               “Let’s get right to it, then. What happened out there?”

               “That’s what you want to ask?” one of the guards rolls his eyes. “Go look at the security cams.”

               “She asked us to get something off the ship,” the other replies, seemingly in a much more cooperative mood. “Said she dropped something from her mom, couldn’t sleep without it. She seemed about to burst right into tears. I went to get it for her and the next thing I know I hear shots. Right as I turn around, one hit me with the gut. Next thing I knew was the ship taking off. The whole interaction probably didn’t last for longer than ninety seconds, tops.”

               “So she took the blaster from you?” Poe asks as he turns towards the other guard, who just shakes his head in response.

               “No, I don’t know where she got it from,” he replies. “She wasn’t holding it when she walked up to us, so she must have had it concealed on her person.”

               “But that’s impossible,” Poe insists as he shakes his head. “If she didn’t get it from you, where did it come from?”

               The guard shrugs. “They’ll probably inventory the armory and comb the logs tomorrow to see what’s missing if someone’s not already working on that now.”

               Poe remembered that he had given you a blaster for your own protection, but he had thought you left it behind on the ship. If you did, then it was definitely gone now, but how could he not have noticed you sneaking off the ship with a blaster behind your back?

               “Thanks for your time. You two go get a good rest.”

               He doesn’t wait for them to say anything further as he turns on his heel and heads out of the room. Had you left the blaster on the ship or had you taken it with you? He tried to replay the whole day in his mind, but he honestly couldn’t remember if he had or not. He wanted to think that he would have remembered you tucking the gun away on your person, but he just couldn’t be sure.

               Fortunately for him, there were two other people who had been there as well, and they might have remembered something. At this point, one small detail might reveal a big clue that would help him piece this whole thing together.

               Jess’s door was closest to the med bay, and he found himself knocking on the door with one fist without any regard to whether or not she might be asleep. No, the thought only struck him when she answered the door in a long nightgown. Her hair is loose around her shoulders and she blinks sleepily at him as she rubs at her face with one hand.

               “What is it? What’s going on?”

               “Did you happen to see her take the other blaster off the ship?” Poe asks anxiously, the words tumbling out one after the other.

               “What?” Jess blinks sleepily as she shakes her head. “Poe, I am _really_ tired. I think I’ve been up for the past two days. Can I please go back to bed now?”

               She turns to close the door, but Poe quickly grabs the edge to prevent it from shutting. “I just need to know if you saw her take the blaster.”

               “Did I see her take the blaster off the ship?” Jess repeats blankly, and Poe nods his head anxiously. “No, I did not.”

               “Okay,” Poe’s shoulders slump forward. “Okay, thanks Jess. I’m sorry to bother you. Get back to sleep. We’ll debrief in the morning.”

               Jess just nods sleepily as she shuts the door behind her and Poe sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. He wanted to go quiz Snap about what he had seen, but what if he hadn’t seen anything either? They had both been working around the clock to find him and they were both as tired as he was. It wouldn’t be fair to wake them up and quiz them about what they had seen. In the end, it wouldn’t solve anything. How you got the blaster didn’t matter.

               It wouldn’t bring you back.

               He couldn’t go back to his room, he just couldn’t. Remorse and guilt were thick in his blood, and he couldn’t adequately find the words to describe just how he felt. There were so many times that he had wanted to kiss you. There had been so many times when he wanted to tell you how he felt, and yet he had always brushed it off, convincing himself that it wasn’t the right time. And then when he had finally given into it…

               Had it been a mistake? Or had the only mistake been that he hadn’t done it sooner?

               He didn’t know, but he couldn’t allow himself to dwell on it. Instead, he turned on his heel and started heading back towards the hangar. He wasn’t going to be able to get any sleep tonight, he knew that already. He should try, he knew he should try. He should go back to his room, take a shower, lie down, and try to get some sleep. He wasn’t thinking clearly right now. If they found you, they would bring you back and you’d probably spend a few days in bacta healing up before they pulled you out for questioning, and he didn’t want to look like an absolute wreck the next time you saw him.

               Unless they didn’t find you.

               Unless you were really…

               His brain wouldn’t even allow him to finish the thought. He couldn’t say the word. He couldn’t even think it. The last time he had fallen asleep, you were curled up in his arms and the final thought on his mind before he drifted off to sleep was that he could get used to that. He could get used to you curled up beside him at night, one leg caught between both of his as you snored gently into his chest.

               That was last night.

               And now you were dead.

               He pushes the thought away. If he thought about it, he’d have to consider that this was his fault. You weren’t okay, and he should have been able to sense it. Instead, he had just walked off to the command center as if nothing was wrong. In truth, he had been considering stopping by to see you after his meeting with the General, but why had he had that thought? Was it just because he cared, or had his subconscious picked up on something that his rational mind hadn’t yet had time to process?

               If you had just fallen asleep tonight and stayed put, would he even have come to check on you at all? Or would he have just gone back to his bunk and fallen asleep, prepared to come to your defense in the morning?

               He had been ready for that conversation. He had been mentally preparing for it most of the trip back, imagining scenario after scenario of what Leia might say. He knew that she believed that the ends justified the means, and more often than not, he agreed with that, but he couldn’t believe that she would ever be so callous as to just hand you over to the First Order.

               But now that didn’t matter. Now he would never get the chance to come to your defense. And why? Because you had decided to take your own life instead of just waiting to see how things played out. You were upset, he told himself. Your mother just died. You just lost your home, your birth right, and you didn’t know how to deal with it.

               He just didn’t understand why you didn’t tell him you weren’t okay. You trusted him enough to share a night with him but you couldn’t tell him how you were feeling? If you had taken the blaster off the ship, it meant that you had been preparing for this since you landed…

               …which meant that it didn’t matter what he had said. It didn’t matter if he came to check on you or not. Maybe if he had stayed, you wouldn’t have left, or maybe you would have just snuck out while he was asleep. Either way, this was something that you had already planned.

               It still didn’t make him feel any better. It still did very little to ease the train of hypotheticals in his mind. He didn’t even realize until several minutes had passed that he was standing in front of your door, just standing there, although what he was waiting for, he couldn’t say. He had stood outside this door on so many mornings, arriving earlier than he truly had to in order to just spend more time talking to you, and now he had no reason to stand outside this door ever again.

               Slowly, as if afraid of getting caught, he reaches into his pocket and slowly removes a keycard. He had one, he had always had one, Leia told him that he should keep one _just in case_. He didn’t honestly know what _just in case_ meant, he had been hoping he’d never have to find out, but now was as good a time as any.

               He quickly opens the door and steps inside, shutting the door behind him as quickly as he had opened it. He was immediately greeted by a chill and a steady beat of silence all around him. Despite the fact that nothing seemed out of place, the room seemed sterile and bare, as if all the life had been sucked out of it.

               He supposed it had been.

               He glances down to see a letter on the table, and he’s not quite sure if he’s more surprised to see actual paper, or to see his name written in big, cursive letters on the front. He picks it up and turns it over in his hands, squinting to make out the scribbled black letters concealed within.

               “What did you leave me?” he murmurs aloud. Hearing his own words break the stillness around him startles him, and he can feel a chill run up his spine as he reaches a sudden revelation.

_It’s a suicide note, Poe. She left you a suicide note._

               He wants to open it. He wants to see what sort of clues you might have left for him, wants to know what you wanted your final words to him to be, and yet finds himself folding it up as he tucks it into his pocket. Maybe it was and maybe it wasn’t, but either way, you weren’t dead yet. He couldn’t believe it.

               And he didn’t have to. He enters your bedroom to see clothes scattered haphazardly in a disorganized line from the bed to the closet. Your pack, the one he had seen you carrying on your back when you first arrived, wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He walks over to your nightstand, noticing that a lot of the odds and ends that you had placed there were missing as well.

               If you were planning on taking your life, why would you pack a bag? Why would you take your things?

               The answer was simple.

               You had betrayed him.

               That was the only thing he could think of. Suddenly he finds himself barging out of your room and almost running down the corridor. He had to tell the General, not in the morning, right _now._ You had betrayed them all. You were working with the First Order. You had to be. Why else would you take your things? You were probably meeting with them right now. They would never find you, not because you were really dead, but because you had finally revealed your true colors after all. You were in on this, somehow, you had orchestrated the attack, you-

_But then why did the Prowler try to destroy your ship?_

_Why were the Stormtroopers trying to take you both out of the picture?_

_Why had you spent the night with him instead of sneaking off and revealing his position?_

_Why come back_ here _to find out your friends had died before leaving again?_

               He stops outside the command center and just stands there, staring at the doors but not opening them. It didn’t make sense, and it didn’t make sense because it wasn’t true. No, the truth was that he knew why you left. You had already told him. It may have been weeks ago, but he could still remember what you said, each syllable ringing clear in his mind.

_“Maybe it’s because I haven’t really stepped into the role yet to know what’s required of me, but I almost think that what you’re doing here is more...I don’t know? Worthwhile? Important? Like I’m just protecting my planet, maintaining the status quo, but you’re risking your life fighting a war so that people on planets like mine can go about their lives._

_It’s like you’re sacrificing your chance to live your life so everyone else can live theirs.”_

               It didn’t matter where you got the blaster. It didn’t matter where you went. You had been telling him that you didn’t want him to stick his neck out for you for weeks now. You wanted him to put the Resistance above everything else, and so you removed yourself from the situation so that he could do just that. You cared enough about him and everyone else at the Resistance that you didn’t want to risk their lives for your safety, and for a moment, he was almost proud of you.

               He felt an overwhelming wave of calm wash over him as he began to walk back towards his room. Maybe he was so sleep deprived by this point that he was starting to become delusional, but suddenly he couldn’t help but think that the reason you had crashed the ship intentionally wasn’t because you were trying to die, but because you had to make it look that way. It explained why you had packed your things. Heck, it even explained why you had taken the blaster. You would need it for protection, for wherever you were going.

               But where would you go? What would you do? Surely you wouldn’t head back to Draboon and take on the First Order singlehandedly, he knew that implicitly. You had come here to learn how to become a pilot, and within a short period of time, you had become a damn good one. You had developed that skill, but what other trades did you want to learn? What other skills did you want to develop?

               As he plopped face forward onto his bed and curled his pillow under his arms, he decided that this was what had happened. You faked your own death in order to pacify the First Order. Maybe it was true and maybe it wasn’t, but it was much more preferable than considering the alternative.

               In the back of his mind, he knew that your letter was still there, burning a hole in his pocket. But would that confirm what he hoped? Or what he feared? He drifted off to sleep, deciding to hover in cautious, optimistic abeyance…at least for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is shorter than the rest, but I got a few messages from people asking to see things from Poe's perspective, and so I figured, why not? The Reader needs to do some "soul searching" before you joins back up with the Resistance, so it doesn't hurt to see Poe's perspective of how everything went down...it definitely makes things more interesting when those two finally meet up again! Until next week, cheers!!


	19. Chapter 19

               Black Squadron stood on the burning stone of D’Qar’s outdoor hangar, watching Poe and BB-8 scamper about in the sun as they struggled to take apart _Iris One_ for what had to be the fourth time since you had left.

               They had already scoured the ship to make sure that it hadn’t been bugged in some way, or rigged with an explosive device that could take out more than half of the other ships parked around it in a moment’s notice. It seemed to be an ordinary ship, more or less, but Poe decided that it could use a new engine, as well as a new transmission. At first it just seemed like he was going to replace one or two parts here and there, but at this point, it was starting to seem like he was set on overhauling the whole ship.

               They never found you. They didn’t find their ship, either. They found a pile of smoldering wreckage, of twisted steel and soot and smoke, but by the time the fire wound down enough for them to get close, it was impossible to distinguish console from seat cushion. If you _had_ been trapped inside, there was no way that they would be able to verify it one way or the other.  

               They did entertain the possibility that you had escaped, though. They did a sweep of the planet, searched cargo freighters and loading docks alike, but if you had been hiding in one, they didn’t spot you. Leia, to her credit, sent a holo to the people of Draboon informing them of your death and attempted to give your final actions some meaning as she told them that you had attempted to fly back and aid them in their liberation when your ship had crashed. She hadn’t given them a reason, hoping that they would be able to reason that your demise was also due to the First Order’s treachery and fight back, but they didn’t. The people of Draboon didn’t know how to fight. They didn’t know how to lead. They simply submitted to the new change in authority and went about their day.

               And that’s what Poe had tried to do as well. He didn’t ask to go to Rugosa, or aid in the search. When Leia had told him that your body wasn’t able to be recovered from the wreckage, if it was even there, he had simply nodded and left the control room without another word. He had headed straight to the hangar, and that’s where he had spent almost every waking moment for the past few weeks.

               “Look at him.” Karé crosses her arms over her chest as she shakes her head from side to side. “I wish there was something more we could do.”

               “Nothing more we can do,” L’ulo replies, not taking his eyes off Poe. “This is something he needs to work through on his own.”

               “I just feel like we should have been able to do something,” Snap says as he lets out a sigh. “And by that, I mean me. I’m the whole reason she left. It’s my fault.”

               “It’s not your fault,” Karé reminds him. “You told her the truth. Even if Leia had told her, there’s no way to know that she wouldn’t have reacted the exact same way.”

               “But I was the one who told her,” Snap says as he looks over at Jess. She had been standing in the shade of her own X-Wing, arms crossed over her chest with a troubled expression on her face. “Remember when we picked her and Poe up? She had seemed completely fine then, didn’t she?”

               “Doesn’t matter,” Jess says as she continues to watch Poe work. “She did what she did, and if she’s still alive, she’s got to live with that now. If she’s not, then it doesn’t matter. Either way, none of us are ever going to know, so it’s not worth thinking about.”

               “There’s no way she’s alive, Jess,” Karé says gently. “There was nothing left of the ship by the time they got there.”

               “Right.” Jess turns back to them as she nods her head forward. “Guess I’m still trying to be optimistic, for Poe’s sake.”

               “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this,” Snap murmurs under his breath. “I can see why he’d want to act like nothing’s wrong, but I don’t know if this is helping.”

               “We need to let him deal with things in his own way.”

               They all spin around to see General Organa standing behind them. None of them had heard her approach. Maybe it was because she was so small, especially standing next to the giant form of L’ulo, but she was able to do it with uncanny frequency.

               “He needs a mission,” Karé tells her. “Something to keep him distracted, to keep his mind off things. Do you have anything like that for him? I think he just needs some busy work to get him back on top of things.”

               “As a matter of fact, I do,” Leia replies. “But I’m not sending him into anything right now, not when he’s like this. The last thing I need is for him to make a reckless decision because he’s not thinking straight.”

               “Poe’s got a good head,” Snap reminds her. “He’s upset now, sure, but he’ll pull through when it counts. He always does.”

               “Until he doesn’t.” Leia’s face is stern. “He’s one of the best pilots we’ve got, and I’m not going to put him back on the field until he’s ready to get back in the game.”

               With that, she casts an uneasy glance towards Poe before she turns and heads off as quietly as she had come, leaving the rest of the group to exchange troubled glances. “I should talk to him,” Snap says reluctantly. “If the General’s taking notice, we should say something.”

               “There’s nothing around here that escapes her notice,” L’ulo points out, but his voice wavers on the last syllable.

               “Most of the time,” Jess amends, and L’ulo is quick to nod his head in agreement.

               “What are you even going to say?” Karé asks. “Every time we’ve brought her up before, he just changes the topic. What makes you think it’ll be any different today?”

               “I don’t know,” Snap admits with a shake of his head. “But he needs to know that we’re there for him, that we’ve got his back.”

               “He does know that,” Jess reminds him. “It just doesn’t do much to help right now.”

               “He needs to know it’s not his fault,” Snap clarifies. “It’s mine. I told her, this is on me.”

               “This is _not_ your fault,” Jess says firmly. “Even if you had pushed a loaded blaster into her hands and told her to go, it still wouldn’t be your fault. She’s an adult. She made her own choices. Call it shock or grief or whatever you want, but she chose to leave. I know Poe’s upset now, we all are, but we’ll get through this.”

               L’ulo fixes her with a skeptical gaze. “And how can you be so sure?”

               Jess steadies her resolve as she turns back to face him. “Because she’s not going to be the only one we’ll lose before this war is done.”

               Silence descends upon the group, and Snap just shakes his head as he heads over to _Iris One_. Maybe Jess was right, maybe he had nothing to apologize for, but that didn’t mean it still wasn’t weighing on his conscience. Part of him did hope that you had changed your mind at the last second and escaped the shuttle before it exploded. It was possible. He just didn’t think it was likely.

               He wasn’t sure what he should say to Poe, whether he should apologize or if he should just make idle chatter to scope out Poe’s mood, but fortunately for him, he doesn’t need to say anything as Poe addresses him first.

               “Hey Snap.” Poe barely glances his way as he approaches, continuing to work on the parts scattered in front of him. “I’ve got an idea that I’d like to run by you.”

               “Sure, Poe. Shoot.”

               “I was refurbishing the stabilizers when something hit me. If we do a few slight modifications to her, we could use this X-Wing to help train new recruits. It’s got a streamlined control suite that’s a bit more intuitive to handle, and quick-scaling maneuvering sensitivity which would be perfect for helping new recruits get into the air and practice what it’s really like to fly one of these things before they learn the advanced aspects of flying a fully-kitted modern starfighter. They can get their reaction times up to speed and learn to prioritize the basic data streams before we throw them into the chaos of a fully-kitted Seventy or even an Eighty-Five if we finally get some. It’d cut our training time _in half_ , at the very least, and enforce the core instincts all fighter pilots need to have.”            

               Snap stares at him, almost at a loss for words. That was a good idea, no, it was a great idea, and he honestly couldn’t believe that Poe had suddenly come up with it. He had thought that Poe had just been fiddling with the parts in an effort to _stop_ himself from thinking, but apparently he was working to honor your memory in the most fitting way that he could imagine.

               He wants to apologize, but the words don’t come. Poe turns to him as he gnaws on his lower lip, anxiously awaiting a reply, and it’s all Snap can do to nod his head forward a few times. “Yeah, Poe, that sounds like a good idea.”

               “Thought so.” A smirk tugs at the corners of Poe’s lip. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes, but he was trying. He was sincerely trying, and Snap could see it. And if he could see it…

               “By the way, the General was looking for you, earlier.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, and Poe looks him over with interest.

               “She say what about?”

               “No.” Snap shakes his head from side to side and Poe just nods his head forward as he wipes his hands clean on a towel hanging from a ladder propped up against the X-Wing.

               “Better go see what it’s about then,” he replies. “Mind finishing up for me here?”

               “Sure thing, Poe,” Snap replies, and Poe claps him on the shoulder before he turns towards the entrance to the base.

               The rest of Black Squadron had already scattered.

               Poe walks through the halls until he reaches the command center, ducking into a small side office that Leia had reserved for private meetings. She was in there, just as she usually was, but she didn’t look surprised to see him.

               Very few things surprised her these days.

               “Let me guess, Snap told you I was looking for you.”

               “Yeah.” Poe arches an eyebrow as Leia gestures for him to take a seat. “Why? Weren’t you looking for me?”

               Leia shakes her head as if it doesn’t matter. “I see you’re still working on _Iris One._ Find anything interesting to report?”

               “No.” Poe shakes his head. “No, but I was thinking that if we make a few slight modifications, we could use her as a training vehicle for new recruits to practice on, to help them get the feel of a starfighter’s power and maneuverability without the unforgiving complexity of modern starfighter control systems and data streams. I’ve been refitting the engine governors and calibrating the stabilizers, trying to fine tune her performance so we can start training the new recruits on her as early as next week. I’ve retrofitted her to be scalable, to emphasize core pilot skills, and I believe we can cut our training and cross-training time in half.”    

               Leia nods her head a few times, as if she likes what she’s hearing. “And you’re doing all right otherwise?”

               “Fine.” He doesn’t say the words too quickly. He doesn’t spit them out at her feet. He just says them, calmly, as if he was just stating a fact. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, but Leia couldn’t tell.

               That was a good sign.

               “Then I’ve got a job for you.”

               “What is it?” Poe leans forward eagerly, but Leia studies him for a moment longer before she shakes her head again.

               “We’ll go through the full briefing tomorrow. Right now your assignment is to get some rest. This is an important mission, Poe, and I need you in good shape.”

               Part of him wants to argue that he was fine. Part of him wants to tell her that no matter what happened, he was, and always would be, fine. But the words don’t come. Telling people that he was fine wouldn’t change the way they looked at him. No, only actions could do that.

               “Understood,” he replies simply as he puts his hands on his knees. He waits for Leia to give him the dismissive wave of her hand and, once received, he gets up and heads back to his room. He tries to keep his thoughts as far away from him as possible until the door closes shut behind him, but once he does, they all seem to pile on top of him at once.

               You were gone. It still ached. It still hurt. Maybe you weren’t dead, but everyone else seemed pretty damn convinced you were. But they didn’t know about the pack. Maybe Leia did, she seemed to know everything, but if she did, she didn’t say. She wouldn’t say, no, Poe knew that already. Even if she did, it wouldn’t change anything. You had made your choice, and if you really did survive and go into hiding, he was sure that Leia wouldn’t waste the resources trying to find someone that didn’t want to be found.

               It wasn’t even worth an ask.

               Instead, he tried to spend every waking minute being as productive as possible, trying to make sure nothing else fell apart while he was caught unaware. He had already made that mistake once, and he wasn’t going to allow himself to make it again. Keeping busy kept him focused, kept him driven, although he didn’t need to have any external motivation to try to take out the First Order. If they had just left you and your planet alone, things could have been different. If anything, he couldn’t even really say that it was your fault that you had left. You were just trying to protect him, protect everyone, from getting hurt by the First Order.

               He would take them out. He would destroy them, and make sure they didn’t hurt anyone else the way that they had hurt you ever again.

               But he couldn’t think about you now, he just couldn’t. If this mission was as perilous as he thought it might be, he was going to have to focus on it entirely, which meant that he had to push all other thoughts of you aside. He still hadn’t read your note, still hadn’t read what you had to say, but maybe it was time. The words themselves wouldn’t change anything, but perhaps there was something in there that could help him make peace with your… _disappearance_ , something that would help quiet his thoughts and put them to rest so he could focus on the task at hand.

               Slowly, he reached down to his pocket. Weeks had passed, and yet it was still there, still crisply folded. He doesn’t even waste time glancing at his name as he opens up the letter, careful not to rip the edges, as he glances down at the message that lay within.

               His eyes drifted across the note as he read it once, twice, a third time. He read it and reread it, his eyes darting back and forth across the page. He read it quickly. He read it slowly. He read it in his mind, trying to recreate the words the way that you would have said them.

               When he’s sure that the note had said all that it could possibly say, he folded it back up and tucked it back into his pocket, nodding a few times as if to confirm something to himself.

               That was that, then. Tomorrow he would begin whatever mission Leia had in store for him, and focus on his ultimate goal of taking down the First Order once and for all. Your fate was out of his hands. You had been trying to tell him that since you had met him, but now he could say that he was beginning to understand. The best he could do was to focus on himself and what he could do, and let everything else fall into place.

               Force willing, he would see you again. All he could do now was hope.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the chapters from Poe's perspective. I sort of dragged it out because a little bit of time passes between the time when Reader leaves to the time when we catch up with her again. Wonder what she's been doing hiding out from the Resistance and the First Order? Only one more week to find out!


	20. Chapter 20

            _Poe;_

            _Sometimes people die, but that doesn’t mean it has to be for no reason. I died for no reason, or at least, that’s what a lot of people probably are going to say when I’m gone. I hope that’s not what you think either, although I don’t know how this is going to end between us. I don’t know if I’m going to disappear or I’ll have one last chance to tell you how I feel about you before I meet my end, but whatever happens, maybe that’s just the way things were supposed to be._

_Don’t feel guilty about this, please. I can’t tell you how much I need you not to be hurting right now. I don’t want to cause you pain, I never wanted to cause you any pain, and I think a part of me knew deep down that that was why I had to do this. The Resistance has to come first for you, Poe Dameron, but it doesn’t for me. It can’t, not right now, anyway. What am I supposed to do here? How am I supposed to contribute when I don’t even know what I’m good at? I can’t stay. It can’t be like this._

_I understand that I’m probably rambling right now. I don’t know what to say. I’m just writing hoping that some poignant truth reveals itself to you, to magically heal all the pain that my passing has probably caused you, but I think if you’re you and you really knew me as well as I think you did, then I think you know something else too, and if that’s where your instincts are leading you, trust them, but keep them a secret. You know as well as I do that there’s a chapter to my story that isn’t finished yet, and that’s vengeance, for my friends that died, for my family, for my planet._

_I hope this doesn’t look like I’m giving up. Don’t think that. In fact, it’s just the opposite. The First Order wanted me dead, and if I am, hopefully they won’t attack the base, at least not for a while yet. At least I won’t be the reason they do and any casualties that may be suffered aren’t on me. I know that may sound like selfish, childish thinking, but that’s why I had to leave._

_I have led a remarkably sheltered life, and I’m embarrassed by it. I need to apologize for it, and I need to make amends. I don’t know how to survive on my own without someone looking out for me, and that’s embarrassing to admit to, but it can’t be true. I can’t let it be. I know you would say that I’m not alone, that I have you, but that makes it worse and I think you know that. Your duty is to the Resistance but it’s more than that, it’s not right. I can’t count on you to save the day, to save me, if I can’t save myself. That’s not a relationship of equals. That just makes you an over-glorified bodyguard and that’s never what I wanted you to be, not when you were and are so much more._

_I want you to know that I’m glad for that night in the woods. I’m glad that you feel as I do, although in a way that almost makes this worse right now. I want to say that maybe if things had started sooner they would be different, but we have no way of knowing that and I don’t want to dwell on regrets, because I liked each and every moment I spent with you, and I don’t want you to doubt that, ever. You did everything right, Poe, and I don’t want to say I did everything wrong because I know you’ll only argue with me, so I’ll just say there were things that I could have done better and leave it at that._

_I do have one request and I know how selfish that is to ask, but I don’t want you to forget me. I don’t want you to forget my sacrifice, if that’s really what this is. It sounds weird to say, but it’s just weird to think about how in an hour or two hours from now, my heart won’t be beating anymore. I won’t have thoughts running through my mind and I won’t be hungry or thirsty or burdened by realizing that I’ve lost everyone closest to me. I haven’t lost you, not yet, but maybe I’m scared. Maybe I’m running so I don’t have to take that risk. So I don’t have to watch things go bad between us and then I’m stuck at the Resistance with no way out, and while I can’t ever imagine that things between us would ever deteriorate to that point, I never thought that my mother and Garrett and everyone else would be dead and I would lose my planet and everyone close to me._

_So I don’t know, Poe, and I think that’s the whole point. I don’t know. I don’t know what the future has in store for me any more than you do, but I can see your future, at least somewhat. You are a good person, you’re smart and you’re brave and you are kind and you have so much to offer the Resistance and I know that you’re going to be fundamental in bringing down the First Order, and I want you to know that. I want you to_ do _that, for me and for my planet and for everyone else that the First Order has ever victimized and killed in their ruthless campaign to take over the galaxy. You can stop them, you’ve trained your whole life for this, but me? I don’t think I know how to tell you that I’m not as knowledgeable as you are. I’m not as good a fighter, and I’m not that brave either…_

_I’m starting to get into thoughts that I don’t want to say, and I hope you understand. Maybe you do. Maybe you’re hoping. Like I said before, trust yourself. Trust your instincts. Trust the Force. I know, things must be really desperate for me of all people to be talking about the Force, but I’ve always thought that if you believed in it then maybe I can too. If the Force produces miracles, then I’m going to need one right now, for what I’m about to do, and I know you won’t get a satisfying conclusion about that, at least not right now, but just trust me. Believe me, I know how much I’m asking right now, and I’m sorry for that, but you’ve helped me understand what it’s like to live life on my own terms, and I can’t thank you enough for that. Maybe I’m following your advice too late or maybe this is the right time, but I guess we’ll see._

_Force willing, things may go differently than we expect._

_Force willing, this is just a temporary parting, and I really do hope so, Poe. I really do._

_Take care of yourself;_

_Your princess_

* * *

 

            You groaned as you rolled over onto your side and sat up, stretching the sore muscles in your neck this way and that. Sleeping on a burlap cot stretched between two makeshift poles made you long for the big, comfy bed that you had on Draboon. Or the bed that you had on the Resistance base. Or a sleeping bag, much like the one you had shared with Poe Dameron.

            _Dammit._

            You hadn’t been awake for a solid minute, and your thoughts were already drifting back in Poe’s direction. Just like yesterday. And the day before that. Just like every day since you chose to run instead of waiting to see what Leia had to say concerning your fate. Some days you would wake up sure that you had made the right decision, that no one else would come to harm simply because you existed. Other days, like today, made you think that you were the stupidest person in the galaxy. The Resistance base had become something of a second home to you, and you had left it behind because you were scared.

            At least being alone gave you a lot of time to think, and it helped you to focus on what you were truly afraid of. You were afraid of the First Order, that much was true, but it ran so much deeper than that. You were afraid of being on your own now. Your mother had always been there to guide you, and although you had always insisted that you could make your own decisions, you did so knowing that she was your safety net, and she would always be there to guide you when you needed her to bail you out of trouble.  

            But that wasn’t the only thing. Since your mother had still been Queen of Draboon, it let you do the things that you wanted to do with your life, like visit the Resistance base and, more secretly, explore the galaxy. The truth was that you didn’t want to sit in Draboon’s Great Hall for the rest of your life, making decisions governing the mundane affairs of lapis exports and royal court functions. No, you wanted novelty and adventure, and if you were being downright honest with yourself, you were almost a bit glad to be freed from your obligation to Draboon.

            It was horrible to say, worse to even think it, but you had been shackled into your duty since you were born. That was what you had been bred for, and honestly, you had started to feel like the only reason that you existed was simply to govern your planet, and your life beyond that ceased to matter. On Draboon, everyone treated you as the princess, as the future Queen, but on D’Qar, people treated you as your own person, and honestly, you didn’t want to give that up.

            But you had to. You wanted to say it was for their safety, but a part of you just wasn’t ready yet. You couldn’t have stayed there even if you wanted to. You wanted to stay with Poe, you didn’t even have to think about that one, but you couldn’t, not yet. He had experienced so much more of the galaxy than you had, and that’s what you had to do as well. You had to go out into the galaxy and see what else it had to offer you so that when you did return to Poe, you could finally be on equal footing.

            And that’s what you had tried to do. Although the Resistance had sent out a search party, you had stayed hidden and managed to sneak off Rugosa in the back of a Toydarian cargo freighter that they had already searched. You had skipped off to Naboo, and from there made your way to Milagro and Corellia within two days. Once you were safely concealed within its crowded streets, you finally had the chance to cut your hair short and bleach your vibrant blue strands back to their original color.

            At that point, you were unrecognizable. A brief broadcast on the HoloNet confirmed that you had lost your life in a tragic accident, and at that point you could be sure that no one would come looking for you. Everyone at the Resistance base probably thought that you had lost your life in that fatal accident. Jess could probably assume differently, and sometimes you almost wondered if she had told Poe as much, or if your letter had given it away. Either way, neither of them could be absolutely sure that you had survived, and that was how things needed to be. Sometimes you almost wanted Poe to find you, to swoop down from the sky and ask you to come back with him, but you couldn’t, not until you did what you had set out to do.

            Unfortunately, you weren’t quite sure how you were going to go about doing that. You knew that you needed to learn to live on your own terms and see what the galaxy was really like, something your affluent upbringing had never afforded you, but you weren’t quite sure how to go about it.

            That was, at least, until you realized how hungry you were.

            Food was something that had always been provided to you, and you quickly learned that you were going to have to work your way from meal to meal, and so you used half of your credits to rent a small transport in order to run transit for smugglers back and forth across the galaxy.

            At first you told yourself that it was dangerous work and you were putting yourself in more danger than you needed to, but a part of you almost wanted that to be your path. You wanted to put yourself in danger to prove that you could get out of it, to prove that you didn’t need anyone else there to save you. You could be independent in your own right, you knew that you could be, and that was exactly the kind of attitude that you needed to have if you really wanted to join the Resistance.

            That was what you wanted now, you were sure of it. You wanted to earn Draboon’s liberation from the First Order and rescue your people. Even if you had no desire to be Queen, you still had an obligation to them. But you were not going to be able to take out the First Order yourself, and you were going to have to work with the Resistance in order to do it. You knew that Leia would never have recruited the shy princess that first stepped on her base under the watchful eye of her mother, and so you had to do the best that you could to separate yourself from that girl entirely. No, you had to prove to the Resistance that you had what it took to join their ranks, and you were going to do whatever it took to prove that to them.

            During your travels, you had occasionally picked up passengers from across the galaxy, who helped you learn a myriad of languages, not enough to be fluent in all of them, but enough to enlist help where you needed to find it. Your aim with your blaster had drastically improved since the last time you had fired it on the Resistance base and missed your target even though you were barely two feet away. You had learned to fight, had learned that even though you were smaller than the men and the alien species that usually came at you, your fist could hurt if you lined it up at just the right angle and targeted their weak spots exactly where you knew they would be. On one of your travels, you had even picked up a quarterstaff and learned to fight with it remarkably well, and in the back of your mind, you wondered if Garrett would have known how to wield one. He probably could have. He probably could have taught you a few neat tricks, too, although you didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts any more than you already had. He had been your friend, and now he was gone, and there was no way to bring him back. No, the only thing you could do was to honor his memory and keep fighting.

            And it went without saying that your flying improved as well. Flying a small transport freighter wasn’t that difficult in and of itself, but when you were flying it through an asteroid belt that you happened to stumble upon because you were being chased by three other ships who were after the unfortunately stolen merchandise in your cargo hold, you didn’t have much of a choice but to adapt or be killed. There were times when you made it out unscathed. There were times when you were captured and you had to escape. There were new scars on your skin, new bruises on your body, but in a way, you were almost proud of the marks on your flesh that showed that you could fight for yourself now, that you could _survive._

            You were different now, that was for sure. You were stronger, you were faster, and you could think on your feet. You were learning to adapt and survive in this galaxy. You were getting a sense of who to trust and who not to trust, of who might betray you and who might be kind enough to offer you a place for the night so you didn’t have to find solace in the tiny cot that you had made for yourself on your ship. Sometimes it could be isolating, being on your own while you travelled from one end of the galaxy to the other, and you appreciated the small bits of welcome company when you could get it.

            Sometimes, though, it didn’t matter if you were walking along the sandy dunes of Tatooine or navigating through the busy city streets of Hosnian Prime. Sometimes, you just missed Poe Dameron. You at least felt more or less secure in the knowledge that he wasn’t going to find you, not considering how much you had changed your appearance since you had known him, but sometimes you almost wished that he did. You weren’t quite ready to go back to him, not yet, it didn’t feel like the right time yet, but you wanted to at least see that he was okay. A part of you almost hoped that he had gotten over you while another part of you hoped that he still missed you as much as you missed him, but that was selfish thinking and you tried to chide your thoughts away from it.

            You had asked for this. You had done this to yourself. You had made the decision to leave instead of waiting to see what Leia had to say concerning your fate, and to be honest, sometimes you honestly weren’t sure that you regretted any of it. Sure, you had almost been killed so many times that you had stopped keeping track, but at the same time, you and only you were responsible for your life and your choices, and there was no one in the galaxy that could take that away from you. You had autonomy now, freedom that you had never even thought you could have, and self-reliance had suddenly become your greatest gift to yourself. If anything, it gave you a reason to wake up in the morning, to realize that you were free of the expectations and restrictions placed upon you and no one had to die simply because of who you were or where you came from. No, there was no one that was responsible for you but yourself, and you found a small sense of relief knowing that your destiny was tied to your decisions and no one else’s.

            But you couldn’t live this kind of life forever. You knew that, and while you waited for a sign to reveal itself to you, the cold war between the First Order and the Resistance simmered on. You heard nothing on the official channels, of course, but clandestine runs out of Canto Bight and other backwater planets in the Outer Rim had started to get more and more suspicious with each passing day, leading you to be a lot choosier about what cargo you chose to smuggle, lest you be accidentally aiding the First Order instead of destroying it. At least you knew Draboon was still okay in this regard; the steady supply of lapis hadn’t stopped, hadn’t faltered, but were the lives of the people still as prosperous as they once were? You could only stand to guess.

            This alone helped steady your resolve to head back to the Resistance. You had begun packing your things, began making the final preparations to head back to the Resistance base once and for all, but before you hung up your smuggler’s jacket for good, you headed back to a familiar spot on Corellia that you visited frequently, a small bar owned by Rayda Vilda. She had helped you since you first arrived, giving you work and giving you hints as to who you could trust for steady work and who to shy away from. It had been much appreciated, and you thought it only fitting to have a final drink before you headed back for good.

            You thought you would have a quick drink, maybe two, before you headed back to the Resistance base, but a part of you knew that you were just stalling for time you didn’t have. You wanted to think about how Poe might react to seeing you again, but you couldn’t entertain those thoughts, knowing they would only set you up for disappointment. What if he wasn’t even there? You had often considered that you might run into him on one of your smuggling runs, but you never had, and you weren’t quite sure if you should be thankful for it or not.

            But the day that you decided to head back wasn’t just any day. Right as you pushed back your glass and prepared to head out, a verdant green Rodian burst through the door of the bar.

            “Quick, turn on the HoloNet, _now_. They’ve done it, it’s destroyed, it’s gone.”

            You turn back to Rayda. She has her hands on her hips like she’s considering kicking him out, but even she must sense something in his tone as she does as he requests and activates the holoprojector in the corner. Suddenly it’s right there before your eyes, the senseless destruction of Hosnian Prime. Inside the large projected globe, the fiery remains of Hosnian’s planets are shown in a series of grainy clips, all captioned by the ominous words, “Capital Destroyed, Trillions Dead.”

            The bar descends into silence for a tense second before it suddenly explodes into a chorus of voices all at once.      

            “It’s gone.”

            “The capitol-”

            “The whole system?”

            “Who could have done this?”

            “But the whole system, gone?”

            “Just like Alderaan. Is it another Death Star?”

            “It’s the First Order,” you venture, adding your voice to the chorus. “Wouldn’t put it past them to create another planet killer.”

            “Planet killer?” A slimy purple tentacle points back at the holo. “Try _galaxy_ killer. The Death Star just wiped out planets. This took out a whole _system_.”

            The chorus of voices resumes, and Rayda slides down the bar towards you. “There’s going to be panic,” she tells you quietly. “Best get going before someone starts screaming that Corellia and the Five Worlds are next.”

            Was Corellia next? Or perhaps D’Qar?

            The thought chills you to the bone. You knew she was encouraging you to sneak out, to lie low, but her words have the opposite effect as you get to your feet and turn to face the rest of the room. You were too small, especially compared to the alien beings that surrounded you, and so you quickly jump up onto your stool as you turn to address them.

            “We need to do something,” you tell them. “The First Order just wiped out Hosnian Prime and Corellia could be next. Your home planets can be next. Your friends, your family, all dead in an instant.”

            “You’re going to fight them?” A pig-faced man scoffs in the background.

            “That’s right,” you retort, and your comment is met with a chorus of laughs. “But I won’t be alone. There’s an organization called the Resistance, led by Princess Leia, who was fundamental in helping destroy the Empire. She’s been secretly fighting a war against the First Order in the Unknown Regions, but she needs our help.”

            You have their attention now. You can see that they’re all thinking about what you’re saying, realizing that you were right. Their home planets could be destroyed just as easily as Hosnian Prime was.

            “You’re all pilots,” you continue. “You can all fly, and you can all fight. And even if you can’t, there’s still work for you. The Resistance needs mechanics, they need crewmen, they need slicers, they need any sort of help that they can get. If we’ve learned anything from the Empire it’s that _anyone_ can be a hero, that no matter how small you are, you can still have a part to play in this. This is _your_ galaxy. This is _your_ home. Are you really going to sit back and let it be destroyed?”

            There’s an emphatic _“No!”_ from the background, and then there’s suddenly a chorus of angry shouts, but they’re not angry at you. They’re angry at the First Order, and for once, you can feel their enthusiasm building from within your own blood.

            “What can we do?” The voices are starting to blend together in unison now. “How can we help?”

            “I’m assembling a team to head there tonight,” you tell them. “It doesn’t matter what you can do. Everyone has a role to play in this war to come, and we can show them that we won’t back down. We will show them that we’re not afraid. We will take the First Order down, and get justice for all those that lost their lives tonight, so no one has to live in fear of their treachery ever again.”

            “Now then, who’s with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally I was going to stop here and leave the story on this cliffhanger and then watch The Last Jedi and decide from there if I wanted to write any more...but I started writing out some ideas for where things could go here and there and then I started to flesh out those ideas...and now I've got 5 more chapters that have already been edited and are ready to post, so the story is going to continue!! I was considering giving you guys a one week break, just to make the time Reader's been away "feel" longer...but now that just seems too mean when The Last Jedi is already so close and so far away...only 18 more days!!


	21. Chapter 21

               You weren’t exactly keen on returning to the Resistance under the guise of a white lie, but if that was what it took to get back to D’Qar without being blown out of the sky, then you would do what needed to be done.

               “Starfighter Control, do you read me? I am approaching D’Qar’s atmosphere with a small squadron of friendly craft. Starfighter Control, do you copy?”

               The voice that floats back over the comm wasn’t one that you were used to hearing. “Who is this? Who gave you these coordinates? Speak now or prepare to be taken down.”

               You had anticipated this response, and already came prepared with a ready reply.

               “Control, this is Iris Leader and I am representing a small squadron of friendly cargo and personal craft. We were directed here from Corellia after the destruction of Hosnian Prime in order to aid the Resistance against the First Order. We are volunteering to aid General Organa in any way we can. There are experienced pilots, mechanics and slicers among our group, if you’ll accept our aid. If so, direct us where to land. Otherwise, I’ll take my group and go elsewhere.”

               “Iris Leader, please stand by.”

               “Control, copy that.”

               You flip a few switches on the console to mute the comm before you hold the comlink on your wrist up to your lips. “They’re figuring out where to put us now. Told you that’d be easy.”

               “I don’t get it.” It was almost impossible to make out Tok’s thick accent over the com, but somehow you piece it together. “How did you know that they would let us land?”

               Another voice floats over the comm channel. “How did you even know where this place was?”

               “I told you, I know a guy,” you reply, lowering your comm away from your mouth as Control pages you again.

               “Iris Leader, please proceed to landing pad six with your crew. We ask that you please remain with your craft for preliminary inspection before being granted entry to the base.”

               “I would have expected nothing less,” you reply simply. “Thank you, Control. En route to landing pad six now.”

               You quickly switch back to internal comms. “All right, this is the deal. Follow me to landing pad six and prepare to be boarded. After we’re parked, a small team is going to come out and search us and our vehicles to make sure that we’re not carrying explosives or anything dangerous.”

               “What if we _are_ carrying explosives?” Tok’s twin brother, Tik, was a little bit easier to understand, but not by much.

               “Then it would probably be best to announce that before the search,” you advise him. “To each their own. I got you here, but I’m not responsible for you guys if you do something that gets you detained. We clear?”

               “No,” another voice chimes in. “You said we should sign up for the Resistance. You said you could get us there. As far as I’m concerned, we’re here because of you. If this goes south, it’s on your head.”

               There’s a small chorus of agreement, and you just sigh as you shake your head. You were supposed to be leader of _Draboon_. That was where your heart was. That was where your home was, or at least, that was where your home had been until the First Order had killed your mother, the Queen of Draboon, and usurped control of your planet. Now you were supposed to be Queen, and instead you were playing squadron leader to a ragtag bunch of smugglers and bounty hunters that had decided to follow you to the Resistance to settle whatever personal vendetta they may have had against the First Order after the destruction of the Hosnian system.

               “Fine, you want me to play leader, I’ll play leader,” you reply. “But that means you have to listen to what I say. You have to follow my orders, and the orders of whoever is in charge here. You think you can handle that?”

               “Isn’t that what we’ve been doing so far?” someone asks, and it’s met with a small chorus of laughs.

               You want to feel angry, you want to feel frustrated, but you can’t help but grin in spite of yourself. “All right,” you say with some finality. “I get it. You want someone to blame when things go bad? I can do that. But you don’t need to worry about that here. You’ll get a place to sleep, four meals a day, and as long as you pull your weight, I don’t think any of you’ll have any problems.”

               You can hear someone start to ask something, but you quickly cut them off. None of them knew you had been on this base before. None of them knew that you were really a princess in disguise. And they didn’t need to know. Your motives were your own, just as theirs were.

               “Okay, I’m taking her down. Everyone, follow my lead.”

               You quickly park your shuttle and hop out, watching as everyone parks their ships in a neat little row beside yours. They all hop out and amass in a quiet group behind you, glancing around at the random shuttles and starfighter mechanic crews that surrounded them outside the Resistance hangar. It was an inspiring sight to someone who had never seen it before, but the only thing you could see was how much had changed since you had been away.

               “Wow,” Tik whispers, as he takes in the magnitude of D’Qar’s outdoor hangar. “Look at those things.”

               You honestly didn’t want to. For the longest time, you thought that you wanted to return to the Resistance. You thought that you wanted to reunite with Poe Dameron. Now you could feel the adrenaline coursing through your arms, as if serving as a reminder to say that you shouldn’t be here. It was a place that represented all of your selfish decisions, a constant reminder of everything that you had either lost or thrown away.

You hadn’t even been on the planet for five minutes and you were already ready to run.

               Unfortunately, it was far too late for that. You can see a small group headed towards you, although you weren’t quite sure you recognized any of the faces. You were sure they wouldn’t recognize you, not without your signature blue hair. Before your regal wardrobe and signature lapis-stained locks made you easy to pick out of a crowd. Your new fiery red-orange hair still made you more noticeable than most, but at least it was far more befitting of a smuggler than a princess.

               “Iris Leader?” one of the men asks. He’s wearing a Resistance uniform and appears to be a little older than the three guards behind him. You couldn’t place him, and it didn’t look like he recognized you either. “Might we have your designated name?”

               “Just call me Iris. Everyone does.” You keep your face as neutral as possible as you gesture to your friends behind you. “Don’t worry, you’ve got nothing to worry about from either me or my friends. We’re here to help the Resistance. We saw what happened to Hosnian Prime and we don’t want that to happen to our respective planets as well. So, whatever we can do to help, consider us at your disposal.”

               The man nods as he looks you over, almost a little uncertainly. It looks like he wants to say something, but you’re not sure what that would be. Did he recognize you? Did Control recognize you? You were a little worried that using your old callsign might be a giveaway, but that was what you had been calling yourself all this time, and you didn’t want to raise anyone’s suspicions by suddenly changing your callsign now.

               “We just need to do a small check of your vehicles to make sure you’re not smuggling in any contraband,” the man explains. “Unfortunately right now you’ve caught us at a rough time. We-”

               “General Organa sent her fleet to attack the First Order’s superweapon, is that right?” you ask, and the man raises his eyebrows, as if he’s surprised. “I have contacts in the New Republic, from some who were fortunately out of harm’s way when the planet was destroyed. They’re the ones who gave me your coordinates.”

               “Yes,” the man replies. He looks like he wants to say something else, but again keeps silent as he turns back around to face the men behind him. You can see the wheels churning in his mind, but you’re not sure what he’s thinking until he seems to come to a sudden decision about something.

               “These men will show you to your rooms,” he says hastily. “Please follow them.”

               “Teams of two,” you say over your shoulder, and to your surprise, they actually do what you tell them to as they line up in pairs of two. You gesture for the guards to lead the way, and you slowly march into the entrance of the base.

               You were almost afraid that you were going to be stationed back in your old room, but thankfully they lead you down to a different section of the base. You just keep your eyes focused front and center, trying not to focus on any one thing in particular.

You didn’t want to remember what it was like to walk through those halls. The nostalgia was starting to feel as though it was stealing the air right out of your lungs, and you weren’t quite sure how to deal with that. You couldn’t break down in front of your crew, and so you had to keep pretending for as long as you possibly could.

               “Here.” One of the guards gestures down a hallway. “These rooms have been selected for your use. Two to a room.”

               “You heard him, two to a room,” you echo, and they begin to shuffle into their rooms as you stand with your arms over your chest, as if you were supervising them. There’s murmured whispers of excitement and hushed comments of awe as they glance around their furnishings, and you wonder when was the last time any of them had slept in an actual bed. Looking back, you couldn’t be sure when you had either, but you considered yourself the exception to the rule. It didn’t matter how much you pretended to be a smuggler, you just weren’t one. Deep down, you knew who you were. You just had to hope that no one else did.

When it looked as though they had all selected their rooms, you take a step forward to see who you would be crashing with only to feel one of the guards put a hand on your arm.

               “No, your quarters are this way.”

               You hesitate, but only for the briefest of moments. “Looks like there’s no room for me down here,” you call down the hall. “You guys settle in. I’ll be back later.”

               You can hear ambivalent grunts of confirmation as you turn and follow the guards down another hallway. A part of you wants to make a break for it. A part of you wants to run as fast as you can back to the hangar and just _go_ , but you can’t. You couldn’t run away twice. You were going to need the Resistance’s help if you were ever going to free Draboon from the First Order’s tyranny. That was your objective now, and you had to focus on that and nothing else to help get you through this.

               Part of you considered that they were leading you back to your own room to taunt you, but fortunately they stop short and you’re relieved to find that your room is just a few doors down from theirs, on the opposite side of the hall. “Okay,” you say as you stop outside the door. “So these are our rooms. Roger that. What would you like us to do now?”

               “Wait here for further instructions,” one of the guards says as they turn to leave, and you just shrug as you head inside your room.

               It definitely wasn’t as nice as the first one you were in, but it was clearly built for necessity instead of luxury. There was a bed pushed against one wall and a dresser against the other, but you ignore it for now. There was a closet in the space just to the right of the door and you quickly find a flight suit and a maintenance uniform hanging within. Ignoring that, you make your way to the far back of the room only to find a small bathroom contained within.

               You turn around to face the room again. It was very austere and simplistic, a far cry from your previous furnishings, but you couldn’t let yourself be disappointed. This was still far nicer than what you had in your shuttle, and it wasn’t as though you weren’t going to spend any late nights in your room pouring over flight manuals like you had before.

               Your stomach does a belly flop as you finally allow yourself to think about Poe. You had thought of a million and one different ways as to how he would react to seeing you again, and of course now that you finally had gotten back, he wasn’t even around. To be fair, though, a part of you wasn’t all that surprised. No, it made sense that he was out there, fighting a battle that you should have been a part of.

               But if there was a battle raging at the other end of the galaxy, it meant that Leia had her hands full right now, which meant she wouldn’t bother with you for quite some time.

               Quickly, you peek out into the hallway to find it deserted. Without even thinking, you find your feet carrying you down the hallway. You turn a corner, then another, then another, just stumbling through the deserted corridors.

               You feel like you’re lost, like you can’t possibly know where you’re going, and yet your feet never once break their stride as you walk with your head down, your face set with purpose. A few times you think you can hear footfalls marching it step to yours, but every time you turned around, you found the hallways completely empty, which begged the question, was someone actually following you, or was it your guilty conscience trying to tell you that you shouldn’t have left?

               It was the only thing that you could think of to explain the feeling of doubt that kept bubbling up inside of you, like a kettle about to boil over. You felt like you were going to be sick, and you couldn’t be sure why. You wanted to laugh, you wanted to cry, and you’re beginning to think that your body is going to erupt from the sheer multitude of the emotions coursing inside you when you stop in front of the door.

               Your door.

               You stare at it for a moment as goosebumps prickle at your skin. You can feel the blood pumping loudly in your ears and for a moment you think you’re going to faint before you find your fingers fiddling for your keycard. You pull it out quickly as you swipe it over the scanner just like you used to and wait for something to happen.

               Nothing does.

               Anxiously, you slide it again, hoping for a light or a beep or _some_ kind of signal to show that it was still functioning. You didn’t want to rationalize why, but you _needed_ the card to work. You needed to get inside your old room again. You needed to see your old clothes still strewn about on the floor. You needed to see some sign of your previous self to tell you that this hadn’t just been a dream. You needed some kind of proof that you really had been here before, that all of this really had happened, and all the closure you needed lay behind that door.

               “Let me in!” You pound on the door with both hands as you try to push it open, try to will yourself to get through. It doesn’t budge, and you can’t help but let a cry of frustration escape you as you pound on the door until your upper arms are sore from exertion. “Let me in, let me in, let me _in-_ ”

               “Hey!”

               You freeze and prepare to run down the hall when you suddenly realize just how guilty that would make you look. Instead, you just stand still as you face the door, not daring to look at who’s approaching you.

               “Who are you? What are you doing?”

               “Uh, I just ventured out of my room to look around,” you say as you stare resolutely at the door in front of you. “I tried to come back and the card’s not working now. I’m not sure what’s wrong.”

               “This part of the base has been shut down due to security concerns for quite some time,” the man tells you as he approaches, and you finally bring yourself to look at him. He has thick wavy, dark hair that tumbles over his forehead, and there’s something familiar about his sharp eyes and long nose that you can’t quite put your finger on.

               “I didn’t know that,” you tell him. At least that part was true. “I’m, uh, I’m new here. Recent volunteer.”

               “Uh-huh.” The man stops in front of you as he looks you over, but you avoid his eyes. He seems to be studying you for some reason, but you couldn’t even guess what he was looking for.

               “There’s a lot of things I would like to say to you right now, but there isn’t time. I need you to come with me. We need to get you out of here as soon as possible.”

               You look up at him with alarm, and without thinking, your hands immediately fly up in front of you as you get ready to fight. “Tell me who you are. Now.”

               “Who I am?” He shakes his head as he stares you down. “I’m nothing, especially not compared to the current Queen of Draboon.”

               “You’re mistaken.” You literally have to swallow the lump in your throat before you can speak again. “She’s dead. Her shuttle crashed in the hills of Rugosa. There’s nothing left of her now.”

               The man glares at you, and you can see real anger behind his eyes. Without warning, he grabs you by the shoulders as he pushes you back against the wall. Your lower lip trembles, but you’re suddenly in too much shock to move.

               “I know who you are, and for the record, I hate you after everything you’ve done, but you are still the current Queen of Draboon and you need to leave. Now.”

               He’s literally shaking with emotion, whether from anger or from something else you can’t quite identify, but your voice is soft when you speak next. “Why? What’s wrong?”

               “Commander Dameron took his forces to try to take out the Starkiller weapon,” he explains. “But their superweapon is going to target here next. If the strike force fails, the superweapon will fire and this whole system will be obliterated.”

               You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You had been running away from returning for so long, and now that you had finally returned, you were being forced to leave again simply because of the threat that the First Order posed?

               The irony of that was not lost on you.

               “So you need to leave. Now. If you have any hope at all of taking back our planet, you need to go.”

               Your lower lip trembles again as you come to a sudden decision about something. “They won’t fail,” you tell him quietly. “Poe won’t fail. I know he won’t. D’Qar is safe-”

               “They’re going to strike here next,” he tells you flatly. “Either way, you need to leave.”

               “No,” you say firmly as you finally summon the strength to pull away from him. You push him back at his shoulders and he relents as he takes a step back away from you, allowing you to move away from the wall. “No, I’m not going to leave. I’ve been running away from this fight for too long, and I can’t just sit back and wait for the Resistance to win. If I want them to win, I have to help them.”

               “Just like you did when you came here the first time?” he asks. “Like when you came here and abandoned your people? You were so desperate to leave, and the First Order took full advantage of that when they-”

               “No.” You couldn’t hear this. You could barely even bring yourself to think about it, but you were here now, and you were going to have to face this once and for all. “No, the First Order had been looking into Draboon longer than I or anyone could have realized. Even if I had stayed, I would have been executed along with my mother. Maybe I had the wrong reasons for coming here, but if I hadn’t, I would probably be dead right now.”

               “Maybe.” The man’s eyes flash in the dim light of the hallway. “Maybe, but then maybe my brother would still be alive.”

               You blink as you shake your head. “Garrett?” The name tumbles off your lips without you even being aware of it, and the man blinks as he takes a step back.

               “How-?”

               “Garrett,” you say softly as you take a step towards him, suddenly putting the pieces together. “He was your little brother, right? He mentioned that he had an older brother that worked for the maintenance team, but…” You let your voice trail off. “You’re Joran, right?”

               The man nods his head, but he seems wary now.

               “Joran, I can’t apologize enough for what happened to Garrett. He wasn’t just a member of my security detailing. He was my friend. I wasn’t here when he fell, but-”

               “Save it.” He shakes his head and massages his lower lip with his thumb before he speaks next. “General Organa already told me the stories of his _heroism,_ but I don’t want to hear it. He told me everything, you know. He told me that you treated him better than any of your other guards. He told me that you were like a friend to him, that you wanted to make him the head of your security detailing someday. Did you ever think that might have put a target on his back?”

               “No,” you say softly as you shake your head. “No, I didn’t.”

               “And he’s dead now,” Joran reminds you. “That blood is on your hands.”

               “And there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss him,” you say coldly. “Him or Toka or Jeoff or my mother. They all died, and-” Your voice cracks, and you can’t bring yourself to continue. “But you’re not on Draboon. When did you leave?”

               “Right after the Queen was killed,” he explains. “I snuck off in the back of a cargo shipment headed for Naboo. From there I kept trying to contact my brother, but one of my transmissions was intercepted by Commander Dameron. He came to Naboo, picked me up, and took me back to the Resistance. I’ve been working on their maintenance team ever since.”

               He’s staring at you like he expects you to say something, but there’s honestly nothing you can think of to say. _Commander Dameron._ Your thoughts snag on the name but you can’t bring yourself to think about him, not now, not here. Regardless, you know he’s waiting, and so you let the words tumble off your lips of their own accord.

               “I’m sorry,” you begin. “I know that’s useless. I know an apology doesn’t make anything better, but I’m still sorry. Your brother was one of the nicest people in the galaxy, and it’s not fair that he had to die here, so far from home, fighting a war that he should never have been involved in. After he passed, just knowing that so many had died because of me, I couldn’t take it. I was selfish. I was scared. I left. I faked my death and crashed in the hills of Rugosa. I didn’t want to take responsibility for Garrett’s death, for my mother’s death, but I have to. I have to do it because I have to make things right, and I can start by helping to take out the First Order and taking back control of Draboon. I’m sure Garrett’s told you that I was having second thoughts about being Queen, and he was right. It’s not who I am, but it’s who I’m meant to be, and I’m not going to stop until our people are free.”

               Joran’s eyes are wet with tears, but to his credit, he doesn’t allow himself to cry in front of you. “I am a faithful citizen of Draboon, first and foremost, and as such, you are my Queen, no matter the circumstance.” He seems to be saying it through gritted teeth, but he gets it out nonetheless. “That’s why you need to leave, Your Majesty. You can’t lead our people if you die here today.”

               “Is Leia gone?” you ask, but he simply shakes his head, and that hardens your resolve. “Then I’m not going either. If she’s still here it means that she knows Black Squadron is going to take out that superweapon. If she’s not worried, then I’m not either.”

               Joran looks uncomfortable for a moment before he looks back up at you. “Look, Garrett told me-”

               “It doesn’t matter,” you reply simply. “It can’t. I’m here for Draboon. I’m here for my planet. Anything else has to be secondary to that; it’s why I left. I needed to realize my place in all this, and my place is with my people.” You glance down the hallway and lower your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “But you can’t let anyone else know who I am, okay? That may only put more people’s lives in danger and I don’t want to risk it. Right now people just think that I’m a smuggler, and I want to keep things that way.”

               “Understood,” he replies. “But unfortunately as the only citizen of Draboon on this planet, it seems I’m called to take up my brother’s duties and defend you in any way I can.”

               He seems sincere, but you just shake your head. The last thing that you needed was for him to get swept up in something that would lead to him getting killed too. He was already in far more danger than he should have been in on the Resistance base, and it wasn’t lost on you that the only reason he was there was because of you.

               “That’s the beauty of being a smuggler,” you tell him. “No one cares about me. No one’s going to hurt me-”

               “You can’t stay anonymous forever, Your Majesty,” Joran reminds you. “Your hair may be a different color, and you may dress like a smuggler, but I could still recognize you, and I don’t have a doubt that others will be able to as well.”

               “I know,” you admit quietly. “But I want that list to be as short as possible for as long as I can.”

               He gnaws on his lower lip as he looks you over. “I don’t have any authority here, but I really think that you should talk to Leia. Now.”

               You’re about to agree with him when your stomach gives a sharp rumble, and you clutch your sides as he looks up at you with a bewildered expression on his face. “It was a long trip over,” you say by way of explanation. “And I think I’ve learned firsthand that smuggling is not an easy life, okay? My crew and I are really hungry...can you take us to get some food first? Chat with Leia after?”

               “Yeah,” Joran says as he nods his head forward. “Yeah, I think I should be able to do that.”

               “Lead the way,” you say as gesture out in front of you, letting him start down the familiar hallway towards the mess hall. You could have probably gotten there yourself, but right now you needed someone else there, someone who knew the base better than you did since you had been away. You didn’t know what had changed, or who had changed, and you were honestly more than a little scared to see what was different now. You were different now; would people still accept you as they once had?

               As you walk, you can’t help but cast an uneasy glance back down the hallway. How long had it been since you had first met Poe for your first pilot’s lesson outside that door? How long had it been since you convinced Jess into handing over her blaster? The last time you had stood outside that door, you had two choices. Face General Organa or run.

               You chose to run.

               This time? The adrenaline itched in your legs, urging you to run. When you first got back, you had sworn to yourself that you would never run away again. Now you couldn’t be sure. Maybe you hadn’t made a mistake in leaving. Maybe the only mistake you had made was in returning. You had tried to convince yourself that people would still remember you, that they wouldn’t hold your departure against you, but the truth was that you just couldn’t be sure.

               The truth was, you honestly weren’t sure you wanted to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader's finally back on the Resistance Base! There are a few chapters before The Last Jedi officially begins, so I sort of had to shrink the timeline a bit to make it fit in current canon, since The Last Jedi is supposed to pick up where The Force Awakens left off. 
> 
> That being said, we see Poe/Rey/Chewie/Finn return to D'Qar, and then they find Luke's location, and Rey has enough time to shower and change before she went off to Ahch-To, and I'm sure that trip took more than a day or so to complete, so I feel like there's room for stuff to happen within that period. 
> 
> I'm not trying to hint at anything as far as the story goes, just want to reassure you that if you're worried about The Last Jedi spoilers, that should put your mind at ease. I've written up to Chapter 26 and the movie hasn't even come out yet, so as long as you plan to see The Last Jedi before sometime around mid-January, you should be fine, and even then, I'll be sure to put a little note at the top once we actually get into The Last Jedi material, so you don't have to worry!!


	22. Chapter 22

               The crisis had been averted, at least momentarily.

               Through Joran, you learned that the Starkiller Base had been destroyed, although Leia’s husband, Han Solo, had been killed in the aftermath. They were in a perilous position, however, as the First Order was preparing a full-frontal assault on D’Qar next, and it looked like they were beginning to make preparations for moving their main operations elsewhere.

               Which meant that you still had not gotten a chance to talk to Leia. Apparently, she was wrapped up with her own personal affairs concerning her brother, the legendary war hero and Jedi, Luke Skywalker, leaving you more time to spend on your own. You knew that Poe Dameron had to be back on base, along with Black Squadron and the rest of Starfighter Corps, and so you confined yourself to your room, only venturing out for meals with your crew at odd hours, when you were sure that you wouldn’t be spotted by any of them.

               But you couldn’t hide away forever. You knew that, although admitting it was another story entirely. You had tried to imagine what it would be like to see Poe again, and the hypotheticals were beginning to drive you insane. Would he be happy to see you? Would he scoop you up in his arms and kiss you and tell you how much he missed you since you were away? Or would he be angry that you had deserted him? What if he wanted nothing more to do with you?

               If he did, that was fine, or at least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. You came here to help the Resistance eliminate the First Order so you could liberate Draboon. That was your goal now. That was why you were here. You couldn’t let personal attachments get in the way of that.

               But even with that assertion, you couldn’t help but wonder how he would react, and you played the scenario over and over and over again in your mind until you were sure it was going to drive you insane.

               Fortunately, you get a temporary reprieve from these thoughts as Joran comes to your door one day and tells you that Leia is finally ready to speak with you.

               “So,” you say as you head down the hall beside him. “I’m guessing that someone told her that I was here?”

               “I didn’t say anything to her,” Joran responds, as if mistaking your question for an accusation. “But there isn’t anything that goes on around this base that escapes her notice.”

               “I can believe that,” you reply. “After everything that’s happened, I’m sure she-”

               The words drop out of your mouth as you suddenly spot Poe coming towards you from the opposite direction. He’s talking to a man in an officer’s uniform, and they seem deep in conversation as they head towards you. You keep your head partially turned towards Joran as you pass, waiting for Poe to notice you. Waiting for him to at least look in your direction-

               But he doesn’t. He just keeps walking, and you force your feet to keep moving.

               Joran looks back at you and seems to wait for you to recover yourself before he speaks again. “Are you okay, Your Highness?”

               You’re too frazzled to even rebuke him for calling you that. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

               You quickly duck into an alcove as you lean against the wall and put your hands in your skull. Your breathing was shallow and you were sure that you were suddenly going to have a panic attack. This was the first time you had seen Poe in ages, and he didn’t even recognize you. Red hair or not, wouldn’t he have at least glanced in your direction? Wouldn’t he at least recognize your gait, your height, something to let him know that you were so close you could have touched him?

               “He didn’t notice me.” Your voice is weak with tears, but you push through them. “He didn’t even notice me. He just walked right by me.” You look up at Joran, suddenly struck with a much worse realization. What if he saw you and simply chose not to acknowledge you? “He hates me. He hates me now, doesn’t he? Or worse, he’s forgotten me. I…I shouldn’t have come back. This was a mistake. This was a big mistake. I need to go-”

               “-talk to Leia,” Joran finishes for you, his expression wary. “You need to go talk to Leia. For Draboon. For our people.”

               “Right,” you reply, although your voice is still unsteady. “Right. I just need to talk to Leia. For Draboon. For our people.”

               Joran still watches you uncertainly as you push back off the wall and head towards the command center. “You know, we all heard the rumors, about what went on between you and Commander Dameron. It’s not a secret.”

               “It was inappropriate,” you mumble feebly, searching for any kind of excuse that would try to make you feel better if Poe really did want nothing to do with you anymore. “It wasn’t right. We should never have gotten involved.”

               “Maybe,” Joran replies. He glances aside at you as he tries to inject some humor into the situation. “I know my brother didn’t like it. He had the biggest crush on you.”

               “What?” You shake your head as you turn back to face him, as if you didn’t understand what you were hearing. “What do you mean Garrett had a crush on me? No, he-” You let your voice trail off as you think over just how friendly you and Garrett were. How he had seemed to dislike Poe from the start. “Okay, maybe you’re right, but he never told me. He never acted on it. He just did his job-”

               “And that’s what you need to do now,” Joran reminds you. “Focus on Draboon. Focus on your people.”

               You pause for a moment as you turn back to look at him. “When we first met, you told me that you hated me because I left Draboon and that led to your brother being killed. Has that changed?”

               He turns to you as he raises an eyebrow.

               “I just mean, you’re giving me counsel. You’re talking to me like nothing’s wrong. You’re calling me Your Majesty and you still want me to be Queen, so it seems like you respect me.”

               “It’s my duty to,” Joran replies. “As a citizen of Draboon, I’ve sworn fidelity to the crown. Plus, Garrett made me swear that I would take care of you if anything happened to him.”

               You can’t help but smirk in spite of yourself. “But if you had a choice?”

               “If I had a choice?” Joran shakes his head. “I don’t think you want me to answer that question.”

               You let out a small noise of discontentment as you stop and turn to face him. “Look, what happened to Garrett was probably my fault, I’m not going to deny it. Maybe it’s the First Order’s fault, and it probably is, but I still feel responsible. If there is one thing I learned from my mother, it’s that being Queen is a privilege, not a right, and a Queen is only successful when she has the love and support of her people. I don’t have your support right now, Joran, and I understand why, but I do hope that I’ll be able to earn it someday.”

               Joran gnaws on his lower lip as he takes this in. “To be honest, when I first heard you were leaving, I figured you were just another spoiled princess who wanted to venture out on her own without thought to the political ramifications that it could have for her planet.”

               “And that was probably true to an extent,” you admit. “I didn’t know what I was getting into. Not really. I just wanted to learn how to fly before I became Queen, because I wanted to learn how to escape from a perilous situation if I ever found myself in one, and also, yes, because it’s just something I always wanted to do. And you’re right, I came from a place of privilege that my mother could just buy Commander Dameron’s time by contributing to the Resistance, because she wanted me to have the best teacher in the galaxy if I was to learn. But I studied hard here, and when I was on my own out there, I made sure that training did not go to waste.”

               He pauses for a moment as he studies you. “It was really rough for you out there, wasn’t it?”

               “It was,” you admit. “But it was my choice to leave. I thought I was doing the right thing. My ship was shot down and I thought that the target was just me and Poe. It wasn’t until Snap came to pick us up that I realized that this was so much larger than me. I thought I had been thinking outside of myself. I thought I had been thinking about Draboon, but I was wrong. If I had been, they wouldn’t have died. So I left to try to get some, I don’t know, perspective, so when the time came, I could help the Resistance defeat the First Order and take back sovereignty of Draboon. Yes, a part of me was dodging the responsibilities that came with me being responsible for my planet, but another part of me was also learning how the common people lived, so that when the time came to take back my planet, I could understand the suffering that my citizens have had to endure, so I could make sure that on one would ever feel that way ever again under my rule.”

               Joran hesitates before he massages the dirty tile with the toe of his boot. “You know, you’re making it really hard to hate you right now.”

               You let out a small laugh as you finally reach the command center, stopping outside its thick metal doors. “Well, this is as far as I go, Your Majesty,” Joran tells you. “It’s back to the maintenance bay for me.”

               “Okay,” you say with a curt nod of your head. “Thanks for bringing me at least this far. It’s much appreciated.”

               “Good luck,” he says as he turns and heads down the hallway, and you just stand there as you watch him go. You wanted to do something to try to make up for all that he had gone through, but there was nothing that you could do. He had lost his brother just as you had lost your mother, and there was nothing either of you could do but continue to go on and bear that loss as best you could.

               Although, truth be told, you had to bring consider that maybe you had left the Resistance base in order to avoid dealing with their deaths. You lived a dangerous life on the run as a smuggler, but at least no one held you responsible for anything. You weren’t responsible for the mistakes you had made with Kole and with Poe, simply because those mistakes belonged to the princess of Draboon, and the more you ingrained yourself in the life of the smuggler, the more you became someone else, some separate entity that wasn’t responsible for your past misdeeds.

               But now, being back here? Now you were forced to hold yourself accountable, forced to remember everything that you had done wrong, and you weren’t quite sure how to deal with that.

               Regardless, you push yourself through the parted metal doors as you enter the command center. It was a lot busier than it had been previously. Droids and human and species of all varieties buzzed around the small room, and you found yourself feeling more and more out of place as you scanned the room for Leia.

               No one looked your way. No one even stopped to turn to the girl with fiery red hair, and you’re just about to slip out and try again later when you can feel a hand on your arm. Your first instinct is to spin around and knock them to the ground, but you quickly suppress that urge as you force yourself to take a deep breath out through your nostrils.

               “Come.” Leia’s voice is just as firm as ever, and you quickly follow her into another room, just off to the side of the command center. It looked like a small office, complete with a desk and a chair on either side, but Leia doesn’t sit down as she stands in front of you, crossing her arms over her chest as she appraises you.

               You appraise her right back, determined not to be the one to speak first. You and Leia hadn’t always been on the best terms when you were there last, and to be honest, you weren’t quite sure she was happy to see you back from the dead.

               “Well,” Leia says finally as her eyes flick up to meet yours. “I was wondering when you were going to come back.”

               Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “You knew I was alive?”

               “I did,” Leia confirms as her expression softens. “You’ve been busy.”

               “I-” Your mouth opens and closes, and for the first time in a long time, you could say for certain that you still felt like the princess that had only just pretended to know what she was doing. “I was doing the best I could.”

               “I know,” Leia says gently, and you can’t conceal your surprise as she steps forward to hug you. You hug her back, and it’s the first time that you realize that you’ve allowed anyone to get this close to you since that night in the woods with Poe. That does dangerous things to your insides, and for a moment, you think you’re going to break down in tears before Leia pulls away.

               “Who else knows?” you ask, trying desperately to keep the tears out of your voice. “Who else knows that I’m alive?”

               “No one,” Leia says with a shake of her head. “I would’ve thought you wanted it that way.”

               “I did,” you tell her, although suddenly you’re not so sure. “I thought that it was safer for everyone if I was just gone, and stayed gone.”

               “But now you’re back?”

               It was an honest question, and you saw no reason not to give her an honest answer. “I was always planning on coming back, eventually. I mean, I had to. Draboon is still under the occupation of the First Order, and now that they’ve destroyed the Hosnian System, open war has started. The fighting is here, and I’m ready to fight to get my planet back.”

               Leia frowns as she looks you up and down. “I saw the group that you came in with. Are they the company you’ve been keeping since you’ve been gone?”

               “They’re new recruits,” you tell her evenly. “But they seem to have their hearts in the right place. I don’t know them that well, but they want me to be their leader, so I need to step up and be one.”

               Leia nods her head in understanding. “It was very brave, what you did. Very stupid, but very brave.”

               You just dip your head and shake it from side to side. “Some days I really did believe I was doing the right thing,” you tell her softly. “But other days? Sometimes I just cried myself to sleep wishing I was back here. I almost _died_ more times than I can count and-” Your voice breaks as Leia shoots you a sympathetic look. “Well, I’m back here now. I’ll die for the Resistance or I’ll die for my planet, but either way, I’ll do whatever I can.”

               Leia nods her head again. “Given your skills, I think you would be best suited to working with Poe,” she says quietly. “Would you be all right with that?”

               “Yeah.” You give her a half-hearted shrug. “Yeah, he, um, he passed me in the hallway today. Didn’t even look at me. So, um, yeah. I guess he’s moved on and, I, uh, I should too.”

               “I need to know that you two will be able to work together,” Leia says firmly, and you just nod your head. “These are dangerous times right now, and with your past history, I’d like to keep the in-fighting to a minimum.”

               “Yeah,” you say quietly. “Yeah, any issues that we have, I guess we’ll deal with them.”

               Leia shoots you another sympathetic look. “I’m sure you will. In the meantime, I would get reacquainted with everyone you left behind. Things are going to be happening quickly, and it would be better to let them know that you’ve returned.”

               “Yeah,” you say quietly, feeling more like an errant child than future Queen of a planet. “Yeah, I agree.”

               “And if there’s anything else you need, you know where to find me.”

               “Thanks,” you reply, and you’re just about to leave the command center when you hear Leia speak up from behind you.

               “And I like the hair.”

You smirk in spite of yourself but don’t turn around as you keep walking.

               All in all, the exchange with Leia hadn’t been as terrible as you had been expecting, which helped give you the confidence to see someone else that you needed to talk to. You weren’t ready to talk to Poe, and you had no idea how to even begin that conversation, but there was someone who could probably help you prepare for it.

               You stand outside the door and knock, unaware that you were holding your breath as you anxiously waited for it to open. When it finally does, Jess is standing there in her familiar flight suit, her hair loose around her shoulders.

               “Who-?” She tilts her head to the side as she struggles to place you, and for a moment you wonder if Poe had really not recognized you after all. But it doesn’t take her more than a second before her eyes widen and she finally realizes who you are.

               You hear the slap before you feel it, and you massage your sore cheek as you turn back to face her. “Okay, you know what, that’s fair, I deserve that.”

               “I thought you were dead,” Jess shrieks at you, and you quickly hold up your hands as you signal for her to lower her voice.

               “Okay, well, I’m not,” you tell her gently. “And for the record, apparently Leia’s been keeping tabs on me all this time, so, you know, maybe if you had asked-”

               The glare that Jess shoots your way could have killed you. “Sorry, _Princess_ , but we’ve had bigger concerns here than to worry about-”

               “I know, Jess,” you say quietly. “I know, Jess, I’m sorry. I know.”

               “You know?” Jess demands angrily. “You know? Everyone thought you were dead and I didn’t know what to think. Poe was moping around and what was I supposed to tell him?”

               “Nothing,” you say as you spread your hands at your sides. “You didn’t know anything.”

               “No.” Jess’s voice is dripping with contempt. “No, I’m just the one who gave you a loaded blaster and pushed you out the door.”

               “Hey, you agreed with my plan, but you didn’t come up with it,” you remind her. “Whatever happened wasn’t your fault.”

               “No,” Jess agrees. “No, it was yours.”

               You should let it go, you know you should let it go, but you can’t, suddenly, you just can’t. It was your fault, but that didn’t mean you wanted to be reminded of it every two seconds. Your inner monologue over the past few days had been relentlessly driving the guilt back into your mind time and time again, and you didn’t want to hear it now. Sure, maybe you had expected this cold reception, but you’d be lying if you hadn’t said you had been hoping for at least somewhat more of a warmer welcome.

               “You know, over the past few months, I’ve been shot at, stabbed, attacked in my sleep, almost blasted out of the sky and I did all of it, _all_ of it, so that I could learn what the real world was like before I came back here so I could actually _contribute_ something to the Resistance. Do you know how hard it was for me to leave? I could have stayed here, fucking Poe all this time, being sheltered, having an easy life, but I gave that up so that I would stand half a chance at least helping to take my planet back. So you want to hate me? Go right ahead. That fan club is growing bigger by the second, but I’m not going to run away again. Leia understands what I did. Leia wants me to stay and contribute. So I’m going to stay and I’m going to try. So if you want nothing to do with me, go right ahead, that’s fine with me, but I’m still going to be here and I’m still going to fight.”

               Jess just stands there, staring at you coldly, and you shake your head. “It was nice to see you, Jess.”

               You’re about to head back down the hall when suddenly she throws her arms around you and wraps you in a fierce hug. You hug her back just as fiercely, still trying to get over the fact that you’ve had more human contact in the past ten minutes than you had since you left the base.

               “If it means anything, I’m glad your back,” Jess says as she finally pulls away. You can tell that she’s making an effort, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t appreciate it. “You look different, stronger. If there’s any help you can give us, well, let’s just say, we need it.”

               You nod your head forward a few times. “I’ll do whatever I can. That’s why I’m here.”

               Jess hesitates as she looks you over. “Have you seen Poe yet?”

               “Yeah,” you say, casting your eyes down now. “Yeah, I, uh, I passed him in the hall. He, uh, he didn’t recognize me. He just kept walking.”

               “Well, the hair is different,” Jess says as she looks you over. “But you’re going to have to see him eventually, right?”

               “Yeah,” you admit with a sigh. “Yeah, I just, I’m not looking forward to that conversation. Leia wants me to work with him but he probably hates me now, doesn’t he?”

               “I don’t know,” Jess says with a shake of her head. “He was really quiet for a while, and then things started heating up with the First Order, and I just…it’s not my place.”

               “No, no, I know,” you say as you brush your hair back out of your face. “I just, I remember when he stood outside my door, and the last time he kissed me, and I, I…” The emotions hit you all at once. Standing in this base, right in front of Jess, reminded you of exactly how numb you felt right before you had left. Suddenly the loneliness of the time that you had been away seems to permeate your whole being, and you can feel the tears forming in your eyes, blurring your vision. “Jess, I shouldn’t have left.”

               “You did what you had to do,” Jess says softly. Her anger seems to have faded now, and there seemed to be only sympathy in its place. “And Poe, maybe, you know, hopefully Poe will understand that.”

               “Yeah,” you say quickly as you wipe at your nose with your sleeve, trying desperately to pull yourself together. If you could barely keep it together in front of Jess, how exactly were you going to keep yourself composed in front of Poe? “Yeah, yeah, hopefully.” You glance down the hallway. “I should probably make the rounds, say hey to anyone else who still recognizes me, but um, I wanted to see you first.”

               “You owe me for this,” Jess reminds you. “Big time.”

               “Big time,” you agree, but there’s nothing more you can say as you head down the hallway. You weren’t sure where to go next, maybe to the hangar to see if Snap or L’ulo or anyone else from the Black Squadron was still there, or even alive. It didn’t occur to you that some of them might have been struck down in combat with the First Order while you were gone, but maybe that was just something that you didn’t want to think about.

               Death seemed to permeate every corner of the galaxy, and you were beginning to understand that wherever you went, no matter what you did, you would never be free of it.

\---

               He waited until you were a safe distance away before he stepped out from where he had been hiding. Well, not hiding, per say, but listening, just out of view. He heard everything, the whole conversation. He wanted to say that he didn’t mean to be eavesdropping, that he had simply been in the right place at the right time, but that wasn’t completely true either.

               He felt angry now, the kind of self-righteous anger that wouldn’t get him anywhere, but he had to channel it somewhere. Without even thinking, his feet carried him forward, and he didn’t realize what he was doing until he found his fist knocking on Jess’s door.

               “You know, if you-”

               Jess stops mid-sentence and her eyes go wide. “Poe.”

               “Were you expecting someone else?” Poe asks as he raises his eyebrows, and Jess’s face falls as she slowly shakes her head from side to side. “No? So you weren’t just talking to someone just now?”

               Jess just stares at him like she wasn’t sure what was a safe answer. The silence stretches on for what feels like a full minute, before Poe finally decides to put her out of her misery.

               “I heard everything, Jess.” He crosses his arms over his chest, making it clear that he wasn’t going to leave without a straight answer.

               Jess seems to sense this as she curses under her breath and glances away. “Poe, look, I’m sorry-”

               “You gave her the blaster?” Poe demands. It was one of the questions that had plagued him for so long, although now that he was finally getting answers, he wasn’t sure how much he really wanted to hear them. “You gave her the blaster? I asked you that night, I asked you-”

               “You asked me if I saw her take the blaster off the ship,” Jess blurts out, as if she had been holding this in for ages. “And I told you no, I never saw her take the blaster.”

               “No,” Poe replies bitterly. “No, you’re just the one who gave it to her.”

               It wasn’t her fault, not really, but right now he could barely bring himself to look at her. He had been working beside her for so long, and he never even had an inkling that Jess might have known more than she was letting onto.

               “I wasn’t thinking, Poe.” Her voice is desperate. “Remember, we just got back. I hadn’t slept in two days. I was tired. I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t actually think that she would go through with it, or that she’d even be able to go through with it. I thought she’d get cold feet and come back. I didn’t really think she’d go that far.”

               Poe just sighs as he runs a hand through his hair and looks away. Suddenly he was too tired to deal with this, with all of this. They had barely escaped from the battle of the Starkiller Base with their lives, and the First Order was hot on their trail. _That_ was what he had to be focusing on right now,not this.

               “She misses you,” Jess says softly. “If you wanted to-”

               Poe cuts her off with another glare. “Now is not the time for this. We have bigger things to worry about. You know we do.”

               Jess shakes her head from side to side. “I’m sorry for not telling you, Poe. I am. I should have, and I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

               “It’s not your fault,” Poe says simply. “It’s hers.”

               Jess opens and closes her mouth, but it’s clear that there’s nothing more to say. Poe just shakes his head again as he turns and heads back down the hallway the way that he had come. Sure, you were back now, but he wasn’t quite sure he could forgive you for leaving in the first place. He understood why you had done it, or at least, he told himself that he did, but that didn’t help him feel any better. Instead, he had covered up that pain with assignment after assignment so he wouldn’t have to deal with it, so that he wouldn’t have to think about you.

               In truth, he had been so busy tracking down Lor San Tekka after you left that you hardly crossed his mind at all…

               He sighs as he stops and shakes his head. No, lying to himself wouldn’t help anything. He had thought about you, he had missed you, and yet he had to admit that he wasn’t sure what to say to you now. You looked different, you seemed different, and he wasn’t quite sure that he could really pick up where you had left of. The last time he had spoken to you, he had begged you to stay, begged you to come back, and yet you hadn’t even tried to send a coded message to him, to at least let him know that you were alive.

               How was he supposed to forgive you for that?

               He wasn’t sure he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to give a little warning that the drama and angst are going to prevail for a teeny bit...I lay it on thick in the next chapter when Poe and Reader come to a head for the first time in a long time. If Poe's reaction is anything to go by, things are probably not going to pick up right where they left off, unfortunately...
> 
> ...but the good news is that by the time you read the next chapter, you'll probably also have already seen The Last Jedi!! I can't think of any better news!! If you're looking for people to chat with without spoiling them, feel free to drop me a line on my [Tumblr](streetsolo.tumblr.com), I'm got the first showing stateside at 6 PM EST on the 14th and I can't wait!!


	23. Chapter 23

               You pace back and forth inside your room as Joran sits on the end of your bed, watching you take no more than four steps in one direction before you have to turn around and pace the other way. At least in your old room you had the luxury of circling the couch, but now you were stuck like an animal in a cage.

               “Why am I here again?” Joran asks, watching with his arms folded over his chest like a petulant child. “You don’t need me to be here.”

               “I know,” you admit. “I just, this was always something I did with Garrett. I talked or paced or vented and he listened. It was helpful. Right now there are only a few people, well, less than a few people I can trust, and you’re one of them.”

               “You do remember I told you that I hated you recently, correct?”

               “That’s fine,” you reply dismissively. “That just means you can be objective.”

               Joran just sighs as he shakes his head. “Just go talk to him. It can’t be any worse than you’re making it out to be.”

               “Oh, it can be worse,” you tell him, gesturing emphatically with your hands as you continue your march. “There’s probably a hypothetical in which Poe completely snaps and just kills me on the spot because he’s _that_ mad that I left him. I think that’s probably the worst scenario I can think of, but you know, public shame and humiliation is pretty high up there next to death.”

               “Maybe he’s happy you’re back,” Joran offers, but you dismiss the idea immediately.

               “Too many people know I’m back now,” you point out. “Especially his closest friends. No, he knows I’m back, and he knows where I am, which means _he’s_ decided not to see _me_.”

               “Maybe he’s just nervous,” Joran offers. “You’ve been away for a while, and remember, _you’re_ the one that left _him._ Maybe he thinks you don’t want to have anything to do with him anymore.”

               “No.” You shake your head from side to side. “No, he can’t think that, can he? I mean, he knows me better than that, right?”

               “I’m sorry for asking this, but what is the real best case scenario here?” Joran interrupts. “I mean, no matter what happens, you are Draboon’s Queen. Once the Resistance helps end the First Order’s occupation, you will resume your mother’s post as Queen and he is going to stay here.”

               You cross your arms over your chest as you physically turn your back on him. “I don’t want to think about that.”

               “Don’t want to…” You can feel Joran slide off your bed as he puts a hand on your shoulder and turns you back around to face him. “When the First Order is demolished, you _will_ resume your mother’s post as Queen, won’t you?”

               “Of course,” you snap at him as you take a few steps back. The truth was that you weren’t quite sure anymore if Draboon would even have you as their Queen anymore. If you couldn’t get Poe to forgive you, what was the chance that an entire planet would welcome you back, especially if they blamed the First Order’s occupation on you in the first place? Regardless, you know you have to at least liberate your planet, and then whatever happened afterward would have to be dealt with at that time.

               “Of course I will, but my future with Draboon doesn’t necessarily need to affect my present.”

               “It’s either going to hurt now or hurt later,” Joran warns you, and you can’t help but take this the wrong way. Maybe he was just trying to put Draboon first, maybe he was just trying to give you the cold, logical advice that you needed, but you couldn’t take it, not right now. The guilt was starting to overwhelm you, and you weren’t quite sure how much you were going to be able to take until you finally snapped.

               “Or how about this, how about it’s always going to hurt? Because it’s not fair, none of this is. I still like Poe. I’m not going to deny the obvious, but maybe I should. I know there is no future with him when I go back to Draboon, I know that. I know that he probably hates me because he told me that we would figure things out _together_ and then I ran off and faked my death. I know he probably hates me for that, and he has a right to hate me for that, but that’s something that I can’t get past, all right? If I had a time machine right now, you know what I’d do? I’d go back to when Poe was teaching me how to be a pilot. When I convinced Garrett to try to teach me how to fight. When I hung out with Jess and Snap and BB-8 and everyone in the hangar. The threat of the First Order was still hanging over my head then, but at least I still felt like I was alive. Now I feel like I’m just drifting from port to port, looking for something to wake me up. I don’t know who I am anymore, and I don’t know if that’s because I never knew who I was or what, but the closest I came to ever feeling like a real person was when I was with Poe, and I want that back.”

               Joran looks sympathetic, but even he knows that there was absolutely nothing he could do to help. “And what if he doesn’t?”

               “Then what I want doesn’t matter.” You try to keep the emotions out of your voice as you shrug your shoulders. “If he wants nothing to do with me anymore, then it doesn’t matter what I want. But I’m still going to stay. I’m still going to help the Resistance. I’m still going to do everything I can to free Draboon of First Order occupation. Helping the Resistance may be my choice, but freeing Draboon is my obligation, and I’ll do whatever I can to make that happen.”

               Joran just shakes his head. “Then it doesn’t really matter how things end with Commander Dameron, does it?”

               “I don’t know,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair as you try to compose yourself. “We still have to work together, or at least, that’s what Leia wants. I have no idea what he wants.”

               “You’re never going to get answers if you just keep hiding in here,” Joran presses, gesturing towards the door. “Just go talk to him. Do you honestly think you’ll feel any better if you keep avoiding him?”

               “I’m beginning to think that avoiding complicated emotions is my specialty,” you venture, but Joran just shakes his head.

               “Just go and…” He lets out a dramatic sigh. “If things go badly, feel free to let me know how it goes.”

               “Really?” you ask skeptically. “I thought you didn’t like my venting.”

               “Duty bound to my Queen,” Joran replies as he holds his hands in front of him, as if they were shackled together, and you can’t help but laugh. It’s a dry, forced sound, but at least you could say that you were trying.

               “Now I think I see where Garrett got his humor from,” you say, turning as you consider that might have been the wrong thing to say. You didn’t want to bring up Garrett again and again, but they were so much alike, you couldn’t help but think that you almost had Garrett back in a way. But no, Joran was not Garrett, and you had to remember that Garrett was gone, just another victim of the First Order.

               “Okay then,” you say to no one in particular. “Wish me luck.”

               “Good luck,” Joran calls after you, and you quickly head out of the room and down the hallway as you head to the hangar. Your heart is pumping in your ears and you honestly hoped Poe wouldn’t even be there. Maybe he left D’Qar and was working on setting up the new base already. Maybe you wouldn’t have to see him at all.

               You weren’t quite sure what you were afraid of. There had been so many days when you just waited in your room for Poe to knock, jumping at just the thought of seeing him again, and now you were almost terrified of being in the same room with him. Was it because you were afraid his feelings for you had changed?

               Or were you afraid that they hadn’t?

               Regardless, you don’t get the chance to prepare for what you’re going to say. You’re only about a dozen steps from the entrance to the hangar when the door suddenly opens and Poe steps through. He notices you immediately, and you stop dead in your tracks, your heart beat suddenly pounding faster and louder than ever. You can feel your skin prickling as a cold draft seems to sweep over your skin, and all at once, you’re suddenly keenly aware that you can feel every follicle of hair on your body standing on end. Your stomach lurched in your throat, and for a moment, you were sure that you were going to be sick.

               He looks you over, but he doesn’t gnaw on his lower lip like he usually did when he had seen you before. Was that a good sign or a bad sign? Aside from a few small scars and scratches on his face, Poe looked more or less like his old self. His hair was slightly disheveled from being outside, and you hated how you remembered how much you liked that look. You hated how you remembered how easily his hair parted between your fingers when you fucked him-

               You were definitely going to throw up.

               “Hey.” Poe hits his hands against his sides as he smooths down his trousers before he comes over to meet you.

               “Hey,” you say quietly, and you wondered if Poe could tell that you were as scared as you felt. Was he as scared as you were? If he was, he showed no sign of it. He seemed more cautious than friendly, but at least that you could understand.

               “So, you’re back,” he ventures, as if it made no difference to him whatsoever.

               “I’m back,” you tell him, almost a little too quickly. “It was always my intention to come back. It was just…there were certain things I had to learn for myself. There were things that I had to learn to help the Resistance that I couldn’t learn by being here.”

               “Right,” Poe replies, and suddenly you realize that he’s being downright guarded with you. You want to apologize, you want to tell him that you didn’t mean to hurt him, but that seems like the wrong thing to say right now. Maybe he was waiting for you to be the one to make the first move, but right now he didn’t seem to want to talk about it, and you didn’t want to bring it up only to be shot down. You weren’t quite sure if awkward ambivalence was better than outright rejection, but right now, you weren’t exactly sure you wanted to find out.

               “I, um, Leia wants us to work together,” you offer. “I’m here to help in whatever I can.”

               “All right, well just sit tight for now. You’ll get your chance at some action soon enough.” You’re about to say something, but Poe interrupts you. “Hey, I got some stuff I got to take care of. Good seeing you again.”

               He begins to walk off, and you can feel a lump rise up in your throat. “You too,” you call after him, feeling more like an errant child than a responsible adult. Poe turns the corner without another glance back in your direction, and now you’re sure that you really could get sick. There’s a strange burning sensation in the bottom of your lungs that makes them feel as they’re about to pop, and as the hallway starts to sway around you, you realize that you’re far too exposed here.

               Quickly, you head out into the hangar only to be blinded by D’Qar’s bright sun. People were milling about and the last thing you needed was for anyone to see you have a complete and utter breakdown in the middle of the hangar. You could feel tears welling up behind your eyes and it was all you could do to hold them back as you glanced around, looking for somewhere, anywhere, to hide. To your left you spot a door that looked like the entrance to a maintenance room, and you figured that was as good a place as any as you quickly dart inside.

               The room is filled with musty old boxes, and it appears to be thankfully deserted. You quickly make your way to the back of the room and find a ladder leading to some sort of crawlspace. You didn’t know where it would lead, but it looked private, and you quickly climb the ladder and push open the overhead door as you crawl inside the musty chamber.

               The room itself is empty except for a few broken down machines and spare parts that were haphazardly pushed into one corner along the back wall. There’s a dusty window along one side of the room that overlooks the hangar, but the view outside is almost thankfully obscured with dust. Instead of trying to clear it, however, you just sit down on the floor in one corner as you bury your forehead in your knees and begin to sob.

               You hadn’t cried, not when your mom died, not when you lost Garrett, not at all. You had been pushing the tears back and trying to distract yourself from them again and again, but now there was nowhere to run. There was nowhere to go. You couldn’t leave again, and you had to deal with the fact that your bad decisions led to this. You were in pain. Joran was in pain. Poe was in pain, and all of it, absolutely all of it, was your fault.

               You could deal with Poe hating you. You could deal with him telling you that you had done the wrong thing, because you knew that you had, but the one thing that you couldn’t take was Poe acting as if you were just another face in the crowd. It was true you hadn’t known him for that long; maybe he had simply moved on. Maybe you never really meant all that much to him to begin with. Maybe he had started to feel something, and just when you had opened up that connection, you had sealed that door shut when you had left.  

               It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t okay that the First Order had taken your family, your friends, and now they had taken Poe. You wouldn’t have left him if the base hadn’t been attacked, if your lives hadn’t been in danger. If you had come home and Garrett and the others were still safe and sound, you would have stayed.

               Self-righteous anger courses through you and it almost feels as though you’re bordering on the precipice of some sudden burst of insight when you suddenly hear the creak of the trapdoor from beside you. You let out a frightened yelp of surprise and throw your arms over your head, desperate not to let anyone see you in this state. Queens didn’t cry when things went wrong. Smugglers didn’t cry when things didn’t go their way. And here you were, on the floor, sobbing into your knees like a toddler with a scraped knee.

               “Easy,” Jess says as she pulls herself into the room. She pauses for a moment as she gets to her feet and looks you over. “Shit, you look like hell.”   

               “I talked to Poe,” you blubber, wiping desperately at your face with one arm as you try to remain some sense of composure.

               “I need to warn you now, I’m not really good at the whole cry-on-my-shoulder thing,” Jess warns you as she comes to sit across from you.

               “It doesn’t matter,” you tell her, shaking your head back and forth so fast it hurt your neck. “I’m fine.”

               “Believable,” Jess mutters sarcastically, and you can’t help but let out an involuntary snort.

               “You should go,” you say as you gesture back towards the door. “Really. You’ve got stuff to take care of, and I don’t think it’s proper for the Queen of Draboon to break down in public like this.”

               “Well, technically this isn’t really all that public,” Jess says as she glances around the room. “I saw you outside. You looked like you were about to completely lose it.”

               “Oh great.”

               “That’s just because I know you, though. I don’t think anyone else could really tell. I don’t think anyone was paying attention to you anyway, Princess.”

               “It’s Captain now,” you tell her with a sniff. “Or Queen, once I get Draboon back.”

               “You know, when all is said and done here, I want a big lapis rock with my name on it,” Jess ventures, and although you know she’s joking to help break you out of your stupor, you can’t help but take it seriously.

               “Done,” you sniff. “Honestly, you can have whatever you want if you help me take Draboon back. I’ve lost everything, and-”

               You pause for a moment as you hear something else, the clang of metal on metal. There’s a whirring of gears, and you both sit silently at the trap door, waiting to see what was going on, until you watch Poe’s white-and-orange spherical droid pull himself through the door.

               “No,” you say loudly, wiping at your face with more conviction than before. “No, get that droid out of here. If he sees me like this, he’ll tell Poe and I can’t. I can’t.”

               BB-8 doesn’t seem to have heard you as he slowly retracts the mechanical arm he used to help propel him up the ladder. “Okay, BB-8, maybe you should just go back down,” Jess advises, but BB-8 suddenly swivels around, first looking at her, then at you.

               _No,_ he beeps. _I want to help._

               “You can’t help me,” you mutter as you wipe at your face with both hands. “Just please, please, just go.”

               _Wait, you can understand me?_

“Yeah, I picked up a lot of useful things while I was gone,” you sniff as you glance back over at Jess. “I don’t think that helps make up for everything I lost though.”

               BB-8 says nothing as he whirls over to you, stopping by your side as one of his compartments disengages. You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when suddenly a small mechanical arm extends, holding a handkerchief at the end of it.

               “Thank you.” You force a smile to your lips as you do your best to clean yourself up, but you’re still aware that tears are streaming down your cheeks whether you want them to or not.

               “What is this about?” Jess asks. “Is this about Poe?”

               You glance down at BB-8, but he says nothing as he stares up at you with his giant black eye. Would he tell Poe what you said? In the back of your mind, you doubted it. Poe didn’t seem to care about you anymore, and you doubted he would care enough to send his droid to spy on you.

               “It is and it isn’t,” you finally reply. “I missed him every second I was gone. It was so hard for me out there but I did it because I knew that I needed to and now I just, I don’t know. I hate that I needed to. Even Leia told me that I did the right thing, but if I did the right thing, why does it still feel like I did something wrong?”

               “I can’t answer that,” Jess says quietly, and BB-8 beeps his agreement.

               “But it’s not just that,” you venture. “Being back here, it reminds me of everything that I lost. This is the last place that I saw Garrett. He was just a kid. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, and he got killed just because he knew me. And that’s my fault.”

               “He knew the risks,” Jess advises, but it did little to quell the maelstrom rising inside of you.

               “But it’s not _fair_ ,” you insist. “It’s not fair that he had to die because of it. It’s not fair that my mother had to die because of it. For all I know, she knew that there was a plot against my life. Maybe that’s why she was so desperate to try to marry me off to Kole. Maybe she knew how precarious the situation was but couldn’t tell me through the Resistance channels. The last time I spoke with her, we argued, and she died thinking I hated her.”

               “No, your mom knew you loved her.”

               “I barely knew her.” Something breaks inside of you and the tears start to fall in full force now. “I barely knew her. She wanted me to be just like her but I was always waited on by an endless parade of nannies and tutors. I was always trying to impress her, trying to do something to make her proud of me, rather than just following in her footsteps so she would finally notice me, and that got her killed.”

               You wipe at your face with the back of your hand. “I thought I could do this without her. I thought that I would be fine on my own. But she did _so much_ , so much more than I could ever dream of, and I can’t fill her shoes. I just can’t. It’s not even a matter of ruling my planet so much as fighting to take it back and then trying to fix all the damage the First Order caused. And I’m scared. I’m scared because I have no idea what I’m doing and I have no one to help me. I had Poe, and I had you guys, and then I pushed it all away and now I have _nothing_. I can’t do this on my own. I always thought that I could, if I had to, I thought I could always be Queen when my mother was ready for me to be, but I can’t. I just want things to go back to how they were when they were simpler. I want to go back to the way things were before the First Order intervened. I want…”

               The thought brings on a fresh new wave of tears. “I just want my mom.”

               “Hey, hey.” Jess leans forward as she buries your face in her shoulder, and you wrap your arms around her as you cry openly now, your shoulders heaving with every shuddering breath.

               “For what it’s worth, I think you’ll make a great Queen someday,” Jess says as she smooths down your hair. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Poe, but he’ll help you. Okay, maybe you two won’t be as close as you were, and I can see how much that hurts you, but if you asked him to help eradicate their influence from Draboon, he’d do it.”

               “It’s not just Draboon, though. It’s the entire galaxy. Everyone is suffering, and we can’t help them all.”

               “No,” Jess agrees. “No, but we’ll do our best.”

               You sniff again as you begin to regain some semblance of control. Your lips felt parched, your face was sticky with fluids, and the inside of your cheeks felt sore from crying so much. Physically, you felt like you had given all you could give, and yet the pain embedded deep in your chest persisted. “Snap told me about Oddy. And L’ulo.”

               Jess sighs as she shakes her head. “It’s not just them. We lost a lot more when we attacked the Starkiller Base. We just don’t have the numbers anymore.”

               “Well, we’ve got me,” you offer, trying to infuse some optimism into the situation. “I may not have faced down a TIE Fighter, but I’ve gotten out of plenty of combat situations myself. And I brought a small crew of smugglers with me. They’re not much, but I think they’ll listen to me. Maybe they can be my own little Iris Squadron.”

               Jess laughs openly at this. “Are you going to fly your X-Wing too?”

               You blink as the tears suddenly slow to a stop. “My X-Wing?” you echo as you look up at her. “It’s still here?”

               The thought had crossed your mind every now and again, but you figured that the Resistance probably had it destroyed, if the First Order hadn’t destroyed it themselves. After all, someone was able to plant a tracker on the shuttle that you and Poe had been flying in. You figured that if they had been able to do that, then your X-Wing was most likely sabotaged in some way, maybe even rigged to explode, and you doubted the Resistance would take that big of a risk and keep it around.

               “Yeah,” Jess says as she sits back on her heels. “Yeah, of course it is. What did you think we’d do with it?” 

               “I don’t know,” you reply with a shrug. “But after our shuttle was compromised, I didn’t think you’d take the risk.”

               Jess shakes her head. “No, Poe went through that thing pretty thoroughly, making sure that it was as safe as can be. He basically took it apart and rebuilt it to make the controls easier for recruits to practice on.”

               You can feel something lurch in your chest as you imagine Poe sitting outside on D’Qar’s hangar, working on your X-Wing for hours and hours at a time, trying to hold on to whatever memory of you he had left. You glance back at BB-8 who just tilts his head downwards in a stiff nod, as if to confirm this.

               All at once, you can feel something click into place. You’re not sure what it was, but you weren’t crying anymore, and you had long since learned to be grateful for the little things as they came along.

               “Well then,” you say as you get to your feet. “I think I need to talk to Leia.”

               Jess just shakes her head and lets out an incredulous snort. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re not crying anymore, but do you really think that Leia is going to hand over your X-Wing? Just like that?”

               “Well,” you say with an idle shrug of your shoulders. “There’s only one way to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As painful as it is, I thought it was appropriate for Reader to have a breakdown. She lost her mom, her planet, and essentially everyone she ever trusted because of the First Order, and she never really took the time to grieve them. I know this is a really rough chapter so I leave you with a bright spot of good news: next week's chapter is really long, and pretty much every second of that chapter is Poe and Reader. Stay tuned!
> 
> PS: Sorry for the long hiatus, TLJ was really, REALLY rough on me, like, they obliterated Poe's characters. I have swallowed every bit of Poe Dameron that's available, from TFA to its novel to the comics to Before the Awakening and the pilot's log, and that was NOT who Poe Dameron was or is. So it was really hard trying to get back into this story, like I almost feel like Rian killed his character for good, like my friend even sent me a Buzzfeed article saying that Poe was worse than Jar Jar Binks which is just so so disappointing, like I don't even have words for it. 
> 
> If you want to read more thoughts on what went wrong in The Last Jedi, there's a great article about it [here](http://scavengersholocron.com/category/home/why-the-last-jedi-isnt-just-bad-its-toxic/), otherwise updates will continue as scheduled every Sunday!


	24. Chapter 24

               If you closed your eyes, you could remember the happy moments that you used to share with Poe. You could remember his proud smirk when you performed a maneuver better than he had expected you to. You could remember the way he squeezed your hand and told you that everything was going to be all right when your ship was about to crash. You could remember the gentle way he tucked your hair behind your ear as he reached forward to kiss you, gently reminding you that he was there to support you and care for you, no matter what.

               That’s what you had to do to stay connected to _that_ Poe, the one that you still clandestinely referred to as yours. When you opened your eyes, however, it was clear that that Poe existed only in the past. The Poe that stood in front of you wasn’t yours. His hands were clenched at his sides, his forehead was puckered, his jaw was set, and he looked to be practically fuming. All you had said was that you wanted your X-Wing back. Was his irritation a sign that he still cared about your safety, or had he now claimed your X-Wing as his own?

               “She is not taking the X-Wing. No.”

               You know you shouldn’t be sarcastic, not when tempers were already running high, but you can’t help yourself. “Oh, I’m sorry, is this your base? I thought this was Leia’s. It’s her decision. Not yours.”

               “When I’m up there, I have to worry about _all_ of my pilots,” Poe counters. “And that includes you. No. You stay grounded.”

               “I have my own shuttle, thank you very much,” you reply hotly. “But I don’t think I have to tell you that thing would be useless against a TIE Fighter. But if that’s what I have to do in order to play my part in all of this, I’ll take my chances.”

               “You can help in other ways.”

               “No, I can’t,” you snap hotly. “I _left_ so I could become a better pilot, because let’s face it, you would never have let me actively contribute if it meant putting me in danger. So that’s what I did. I put myself in danger, and I’m still here.”

               “Okay, you smuggled some stuff. You escaped some rough situations. But you haven’t faced _active_ combat-”

               “Are you sure about that?” you counter. “Because I had the pleasure of getting stuck in that raid over Mogwai. I didn’t realize I was actually there in the thick of it until it was pretty damn obvious that I was being fired at from basically every direction, and then I had to figure out how to get out of that mess without getting my ass shot off. So, yeah, that was about as fun as that sounds.”

               “What?” Poe demands, his expression turning serious. “You were there for that?” He’s looking you over with some element of concern, and for a moment, you could almost see some flicker of the old Poe shining through his expression. It’s only there for an instant, and okay, maybe you were imagining things, but a part of you was almost sure that Poe’s feelings for you hadn’t been erased entirely. If yours hadn’t faded, how could his have? Or was he only pretending to have moved on?

               “In the thick of it,” you reply evenly, refusing to back down. If Poe was going to remain resolute in trying to make it look like he had moved on, then you had to do the same. Your wounded pride demanded at least that much. “Hear about Boss Skap’s little _mishap_ with his escape pod? The idiot ejected directly into my ship. _My_ ship.”

               “No.” Poe shakes his head as he crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, looking anywhere in the room but at you. “No, I don’t believe it.”

               “You really don’t believe me?” You shake your head, trying to decide if you were more frustrated or disappointed with Poe’s lack of trust in you. “Okay then, go look at my ship, the pod’s imprint is still there.”

               Poe just waves his hand dismissively. “Even if there is a mark, and I’m not saying there’s not, but it could be from _anything_.”

               “She was there,” Leia replies quietly, and Poe drops his arms as he stares at her incredulously. You had no idea if he knew that Leia had been keeping tabs on you or not. You doubted Leia told him anything until you had returned, but suddenly you felt it was very important for him to know that you were not the only person who was keeping secrets from him.

               “I told you Leia’s been keeping tabs on me,” you reply hotly. “If you want to hate anyone for not telling you that I was still alive-”

               “ _You_ left,” Poe snaps, turning back around to face you. “That was _your_ decision.”

               “And I did it for you,” you snap back. “I did it for you, I did it for the Resistance-”

               “She made the right call, Poe,” Leia tells him firmly, and Poe spins around to face her as if he still couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I couldn’t risk the First Order making good on their threat. I don’t know if I could have sent her back to Draboon, but she couldn’t have stayed here.”

               “See?” You can’t conceal the pain in your voice as you spread your hands at your sides. At least this was finally confirming something that you knew all along. Poe had been bluffing when he said that you were being welcomed into the Resistance. Leia may not have been able to live with sending you back to your planet to face certain execution, but you couldn’t have stayed there. And even if she had moved you to another base, the target would still be on your back, and you would only be putting the people there in danger too.

               “You can hate me for leaving, I know I hate myself for it, but it had to be done.”

               Poe just shakes his head again. “It doesn’t matter. The past is the past. You’re still not flying that X-Wing.”

               Sensing that you were going to get nowhere fast arguing in circles, you ignore him as you turn to Leia. “Let’s be real here. Your forces sustained heavy casualties at Starkiller Base. You need me. Now, I may have a ragtag band of smugglers behind me, but they will listen to me. I’m the one that got them here, and I can get them to follow me. You’ve got spare starfighters but barely any experienced pilots to fly them. I’ve got pilots but no starfighters. We can help each other here.”

               Leia just sighs as she turns back to Poe. “She has a point.”           

               Poe crosses and uncrosses his arms, sensing his defeat. “She’s going to get herself killed.”

               You can’t help but hit your hands against your sides in frustration. “You don’t want me to fly my X-Wing, that’s fine, I get that, but can you please stop pretending that you actually care about my safety when the only reason you won’t let me fly it is because you don’t want to lose the machinery?”

               “Is that what you really think?” Poe demands, his eyes flashing in the dim light of Leia’s office as anger creeps into his voice. “Maybe you’ve experienced _some_ combat situations before, but you’ve never fought against the First Order, and I don’t think it’s a situation you’re going to be able to just walk out of.”

               Anger gets the better of you as you shrug your shoulders uncomfortably. “Well then at least you’ll know what happened to me and you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

               It was a low blow, even for you, and the look that Poe gives you causes a bolt of pain to shoot through the middle of your chest. It hurts, but you refuse to back down as you meet his gaze, your eyes burning into his.

               “All right, enough,” Leia says with a sigh as she holds up her hands between you. “You two gave me less of a headache when you thought you were fooling around behind my back.”

               Poe spins around to face her incredulously, but you remain composed and decidedly indifferent. “Actually, that was just shameless flirting. I didn’t even kiss him until our shuttle crashed. Nothing ever happened on your base, if that matters to you.”

               Leia raises an eyebrow and you can’t quite read her expression as her eyes drift over to Poe. “Well, at least she’s honest.”

               Poe just rolls his eyes, trying, and failing, to maintain casual indifference. “First time for everything.”

               “What’s that supposed to mean?” You don’t want to explode, but you can’t help it. “You got my letter, didn’t you? I told you what happened. I told you where I was going. Not in exact words, but I told you I was going to be okay, and that I would come back.”

               “I begged you to stay,” Poe says bitterly, spitting the words at your feet. “I begged you to come back. You didn’t have to leave. You chose to.”

               “Did you not just hear Leia?” you demand angrily, gesturing vaguely in her direction. “I _couldn’t_ stay here. Just my being here put a target on you all, and that wasn’t something I was willing to risk.”

               “We could have worked something out,” Poe snaps back. “We had other bases. We could have kept you somewhere, kept you safe.”

               “Oh yes, lock the princess away in some tower. If that’s what you wanted to do, you should have just sent me back to Draboon. Weren’t you the one who said that Kole wanted me alive for a certain reason? Is that what you wanted for me? Just to remain locked away somewhere until you got bored and came to _visit_ me? Is that what you wanted?”

               Poe seems to understand what you’re implying and shoots you a scandalized look as he takes a menacing step towards you. He seems lost for words, shaking his head from side to side as he gestures angrily with one outstretched finger.

               “Okay, enough!” Leia snaps as she gets to her feet. “Enough of this, both of you. We don’t have time for this. The First Order will be on our doorstep any second, and she’s right, Poe. We need more pilots. Take her and her crew and make sure they know how to pilot an X-Wing.”

               “I want _Iris One_ ,” you insist, folding your arms over your chest to show that you wouldn’t accept any substitute. “It’s _mine_ , and-”

               “It’s yours,” Leia confirms. The note of finality rings in her voice, and you do your best to look unaffected as Poe just shakes his head. You may have won this battle, but the truth was that you still had to work with Poe, and gloating and rubbing his face in it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

               You want to think of something to say, but the words just don’t come. You got what you wanted. Honestly, you hadn’t expected that. You hadn’t even expected Poe to be in the command center with her when you went to ask. You hadn’t expected that things would dissolve into a shouting match so quickly, but at least your emotions were getting out in the open now.

               It was strange, though. As Poe shoots another scathing glance your way, you almost couldn’t bring yourself to care. Maybe it was because you had just spent the past hour sobbing into your knees until you were literally exhausted, but Jess and Joran were right. You had bigger things to worry about. You had to make Draboon a priority, ahead of your own self-interests. You had done what you could for the Resistance, and if Poe didn’t understand that, then there was nothing you could do.

               A part of you had honesty considered that maybe he would have been proud of you for sacrificing everything to try to help bring down the First Order. But he wasn’t, and maybe you had to just admit to yourself that you didn’t know him anywhere near as well as you thought you did.

               “Fine,” Poe relents as he holds up his hands in defeat. “Fine, let’s go. Time is short and if you want to get some training done, we should do it now.”

               “Good,” you reply as you turn on your heel, heading out into the hallway without waiting for him. Regardless, he catches up with you, arms swinging at his sides as he tries to maintain your quick stride.

               “So who are the pilots that you brought with you? Your crew?”

               You just snort as you shake your head. “Like you care.”

               “I’m going to be flying with them,” Poe replies, although he doesn’t sound as angry as he did before. “So you bet I care. I’d like to think that they wouldn’t shoot me down in the middle of a battle, but I just don’t know that for sure when I don’t know a thing about them. So who are they?”

               “I don’t know them all that well,” you reply evenly, deciding he would see through anything other than an honest approach. “But they seem like good people.”

               “Why are they helping the Resistance?” Poe asks as he turns towards you. “How much lapis did you promise them in exchange for-?”

               You hit his arm harder than you mean to, and the smack is audible. Poe looks surprised, but you don’t apologize as you narrow your eyes and spin around to face him. “Not a word. No one knows about that. I’m still undercover, Poe. As far as anyone knows, the royal family of Draboon is dead. The Queen is dead. Your princess is dead. There’s nothing left of them.”

               Poe frowns and looks as though he wants to say something more, but holds back. That was probably for the best, anyway. There was nothing he could say that would stop the maelstrom that was against starting to roar inside of you. You hadn’t meant to say _your princess_ the way that you had, but the words had just sort of slipped out.

               Maybe it was easier to think of things that way. Maybe it was just easier to accept that Poe had fallen in love with the princess, and the princess had met her end due to the manipulations of the First Order. It wouldn’t have been that far from the truth as it was. You had been born in her place, and at least then it made sense why Poe hated you. You looked like her, you spoke like her, but you were clearly not her. You weren’t an innocent little princess anymore. You were rough around the edges, spitting hot fire in every direction, and it wasn’t a surprise that Poe didn’t want to get close.

               You head out onto the hangar to see your crew already assembled in front of _Iris One_ , and you quickly stop in front of them as they turn your attention to you. You look over at Poe to see if he wanted to take charge of this, but he just gestures towards you. And that was fine by you. You would show him that you could take the pressure, then you wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle when things got tough. You would step up and be a leader, because that’s what Draboon needed you to be.

               “So good news,” you begin, shouting over the sound of maintenance crews in order to be heard. “We’ve been granted flight clearance, so it means they trust us enough to fly as a combat squadron. The fighting is going to start soon, so we’re just going to run a few drills to familiarize you with the T-70 X-Wing and make sure that everyone knows what they’re doing when it comes to squad combat. I’m sure you’re all great pilots, but even great pilots can freeze in combat simulations, and that can lead to you getting killed. Basically, today’s goal is simple. We want to make sure we can fly together and we want to make sure you can follow my orders effectively. You’ve done a good job of that so far, so I don’t anticipate any problems. Now, before we get started, any questions?”

               You pause as Tok raises his hand. “What’s _that_ X-Wing? Why is it painted like that?”

               “That’s my X-Wing,” you tell him quickly, hoping to move on from that subject matter as fast as possible. “You’ll each have your own X-Wing, probably more generic versions, but-”

               “Why do you get a special X-Wing?” he asks, and suddenly the chorus of questions start piling up, one after the other.

               “How did you manage to get clearance for _us_ to have X-Wings too?”

               “How did you even know where this base was to begin with?”

               “We heard that the Lady of the Base was asking for you, specifically. How does she know who you are?”

               You nervously glance over to Poe to see him watching you, his expression impassive. For some reason, this rubs you the wrong way, as if he honestly expected you to back down and ask him to help you keep them under control. But no, if you were going to be a leader, you were going to have to answer the tough questions, even if you didn’t want to. Mentally, you try to evaluate exactly what you want to say before you quickly draw yourself up to full height and turn back around to face them.

               Honesty was the best policy, right?

               “You know Commander Dameron here, right? Well, long story short, he’s the one who taught me everything I know about being a pilot. This was my X-Wing. I was always meant to fly it. But then the First Order put a target on my back. They killed my family. They killed my friends. They tried to kill me and him both, but we survived. And they knew that.”

               “They did not just want me dead. They wanted me to suffer. That’s why they killed my friends. That’s why they killed my family. They weren’t a threat to the might of the First Order, but they killed them anyway, until Commander Dameron was the only person I had left, until he was the only person who was still in my corner. But that put a target on his back, and I decided, no, he wasn’t going to get killed. Not because of me. So I left. I _ran_ , hoping and praying that no one else would get hurt because of me.”

               “But the First Order doesn’t care about that. They don’t care about what I lost. They don’t care about me, or you, or any one individual. They care about what we _represent_. That’s why they destroyed Hosnian Prime. That’s why they tried to destroy the Republic. They don’t care who they have to kill in order to get what they want, and that’s why we need to stop them. It doesn’t matter who I am, it doesn’t matter where I’m from, all that matters is that I am willing to give anything to stop the First Order from taking over the galaxy, and if you’re here, I expect all of you to do the same.”

               There’s silence for a moment, and you quickly clap your hands as you gesture to the row of X-Wings parked beside yours. “We don’t have a lot of time here. Get to your X-Wings, on the double. Move.”

               They all scatter to their ships, and you turn around to look at Poe. He’s wearing some expression on his face that you had seen only a handful of times before, but it had been so long you weren’t quite sure what this one meant. It was thoughtful, and pensive, and but there was some underlying emotion that you just couldn’t be sure of. It wasn’t anger, and you were at least grateful for that.

               Regardless, there’s nothing else you can think of to say to him as you turn away and grab the ladder to start climbing into your own X-Wing.

               “Look-” Poe says loudly, as if he’s on the precipice of some deep proclamation, but you can’t bring yourself to hear it, not right now.

               “You said yourself, we don’t have a lot of time,” you say as you hang off the ladder to stare down at him. He looks almost wounded, and suddenly you need to do something, anything, to get him to stop looking at you like that. “So what do you say we skip the foreplay and just get right to it then, okay?”

               Poe’s looking at you like he’s suddenly never seen you before in his life, and that confirmed it. You weren’t the same princess that left D’Qar, but you couldn’t be. That girl had been sheltered and protected her whole life, and you couldn’t allow yourself to be that weak, not ever again. It would not help you, it would not help your planet, and it would not help anything with Poe.

               Poe gestures toward a line of mottled drab-colored BB droids and they take off for each of the X-Wings along the line. One rolls right under you and grapples its way up into _Iris One._  Suddenly, you wished you had an astromech of your own that you trusted, like Poe and BB-8. They were a team, and it only served to remind you how lonely you felt out here. Maybe you’d have time to build a relationship with a BB droid of your choosing, but this one would have to do for now. According to the combat systems readout, this one’s name was BB-4C.

            You stand up and look around at your ragtag new squadron. You might have been the captain, sure, but there was going to be no saluting here. Instead, you put a simple thumbs-up into the air and waited for your team’s reply as Poe looked on, arms crossed over his chest. One by one, your team put their thumbs or equivalent appendage into the air to signal their readiness as well.

            Once you were certain things were lined up, you nodded to Poe to signal that you had this. You didn’t need his help for this. This was your squad, and you were going to take charge of it. Poe gives BB-8 a knowing side-nod of his head, and they walk off towards _Black One_. You follow Poe’s departure before sitting back down in the cockpit and working your way through the power startup checklist a Resistance mechanic had helpfully posted to the console. As you finally flipped on the comms, you caught the unmistakable sound of Tik and Tok laughing over the circuit, likely due to a misprinted line in the instructions. At least, that’s what you hoped they were laughing about.

            “Iris Leader here, knock it off, you two. Do all of you know about standard combat communication procedure?”

            There was an, “Umm…” followed by silence in reply, only briefly interrupted by Tik and Tok continuing to giggle.

            “Okay, let’s try this again. Has anyone _not_ seen _Scarif’s Last Stand_?”

            Silence.

            “Okay, good. In the X-Wings, our comms are going to be just like Blue Squadron’s. Look around you. The order of the X-Wing you picked is now your squad number. Let’s test this out. Down the line, Iris Squadron, report in.”

            “Iris Two, here.” Tik.

            “No, you idiot, like this. Iris Three standing by for ignition.” Tok. Of course.

            “Iris Four standing by for ignition.” Grax.

            “Iris Five standing by for ignition.” Dotan.

            “Iris Six standing by for ignition.” Rezla.

            _Wow_. A strange feeling was growing in you that you couldn’t quite call pride yet. They had yet to actually do anything.

            “Guys, start your engines and I’ll get us cleared.”

            You finally turn your attention to the BB unit patiently waiting in the astromech slot behind you.

            “Okay, BB-4C. Is that what I call you?”

            _Doesn’t matter. I’m just here to fly for once._

            “For once?” You suppress the feeling of dread that rises up in your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            _It’s been a while. There’s more droids than starfighters, so not all of us actually get a chance to fly and test our programming. It’s about time we stepped up._

            That was concerning. You supposed the losses at Starkiller Base inevitably meant less experienced personnel were going to have to step up, both living and droid alike.

            _The mechanics call me Champ, by the way, if that answers your question._

            You were going to have to ask Joran about where this droid got his name sometime. For now, you just needed to get into the air.

            “Okay, Champ. Start her up and patch me in.”

            _Roger, Commander._

            Commander? You wondered if Champ had been here before you left to remember to call you that. You’re about to ask, just to be sure, but Control suddenly cuts off your question before you could finish it.

            “Iris Leader, Starfighter Control. Report your readiness status.”

            You quickly glance down as a new window appears on your displays, likely brought on by connecting to the Resistance command network. It showed the other five X-Wings in your squadron and various statistics associated with them, such as fuel load, engine power, remaining armaments, and several other lines that you didn’t understand quite yet. You were sure you could catch on quickly. After all, Poe’s lessons had proved that you were a _very_ quick study.

            “Starfighter Control, Iris Leader. All craft operational, all systems nominal. Iris Squadron standing by for maneuvers at grid six-three with oversight from Commander Dameron. I see there’s some new information on these displays since the last time I was here. Is that standard?”

            “Iris Leader, welcome to command. As we speak, the last pieces of the fighter commander suites are being downloaded to all six fighter computers. As flight leader, _Iris One_ is the only one with it active, though any of the other five fighters could be designated the new flight leader in an emergency. Additionally, General Organa has reinstated your status as Commander, and requisite information is also available to you on your displays. Stand by for grid six-three.”

            “Roger, Control. Iris standing by.”

            After a brief pause, Dotan lets out a low whistle. “ _Reinstated_ as _Commander_. Sounds like you used to be a bigger deal around here than you let on.”

            Poe’s voice cuts him off. “Don’t read too much into it, Iris Five. We’ll just have to see how _Commander_ Iris does after her long absence.”

            You ignore their snickering to watch a crew of Weequays approaching your X-Wings in a line, each holding the twin light batons of a deck technician.

You decided to cut the joking short and really focus. The joking was all well and good some of the time, but right now you needed to prove to Poe that you could do this, and like it or not, you would need their support to do it. “Lock it up, Iris Squadron, we’re about to get to it.”

            “Yes, _Ma’am_ ,” Tik replies sarcastically.

            “You’re in an X-Wing. That’s, ‘Roger, Iris Leader’ to you, Iris Two,” Tok responds, and you can’t help but smirk. At least it seemed that Tok was really getting into this.

            Suddenly, you couldn’t help but notice that Control had cut off the squad’s chatter.

            “Black Leader and Iris Squadron, you’re clear for grid six-three. Comply with deck control and be on the lookout for any First Order inbound.”

            Now for the fun part. Ahead of you, the line of Weequays moved their sticks up in unison, signalling a hovering takeoff. You gently ease _Iris One_ off the ground, getting a feel for her capabilities. Already, you could tell she was much more powerful than your small freighter. Down the line, the rest of your squad worked their way to a hover, with Dotan struggling the most.

            “Iris Five, what’s the problem? Talk to me.”

            “Think I’ve got it, Iris Leader. These Incom controls are just a lot more sensitive than my ship is all. There.”

            All five of the other fighters were now hovering beside you. Ahead, the Weequay before you quickly dropped his sticks to his sides and began making a scooting motion with them.

            “There’s our signal, Champ. Give me all you’ve got.”

            _Glad to, Commander. Hang on tight._

You turn the fighter slightly to the left and pull the nose up just as you give the engines full power. You’re actually slightly shocked at how much power is in an X-Wing, and the awe clouds your thoughts for a moment before you’re awakened by Champ beeping excitedly from somewhere behind you. In the excitement, you had nearly forgotten protocol.

            “Iris Leader away. Iris Squadron, rendezvous over grid six-three.”

            “Roger, Iris Leader,” and after a grunt, “Iris Two away.”

            Sounded like Tik was finally getting it. Behind him, the rest of the squadron launched into D’Qar’s blue sky.

            “Iris Three away.”

            “Iris Four away.”

            “Iris Five away.”

            “Iris Six away.”

            On your left, Poe’s distinctive black X-Wing pulls alongside you.

            “Ready to run the standard loop, Iris Squadron?”

            “Please, Black Leader, we’re not children. We’ve all done the Rimma Crawl at some point. What we need is a challenge and some time to stretch our wings, not a hand-holding tour over D’Qar.”

            “Oh, so no warm up, Iris Leader? Fine, let’s just get right to it then. All BB units, load checkpoint scenario seven.”

               You quickly shuffle through the scenario checkpoints and realize that it’s the same one you flew early in your lessons. Did he do that intentionally? It was a simple lesson, as it just had you going to space and back a few times. It was kind of boring, but more than that, it wouldn’t really tell you much about your team.

               Looking through your commander files, you suddenly had an idea.

               “All Iris BB units, check that order and stand by. I thought we already moved past the beginner stuff, Black Leader.  I _know_ my people can fly, what I need to find out is if they can _fight_. Control, are these fighters equipped with combat simulation displays?”

               “That’s an affirmative, Iris Leader. Simulation Control online.”

               “Roger, Control. Ready to spice things up, Black Leader?”

               “We’ll see. Bring it on.”

               “Okay then, let’s see how well you do when you’re not on top for this scenario. Control, load combat level four. All BB units, load combat scenario six-eight-echo, _Resurgent_ -class variant. Initiate on my mark. Iris Squadron, form up on me, Two, Three and Four right, Five and Six left. We’ll begin from the rendezvous point. I’ve activated the weapon simulations. Look over your weapon loadout and get familiar with it. You’re going to use it.”

               There’s a long pause before Rezla replies. “Could you say again, Iris Leader? Just want to make sure my comms are working right. I thought I heard you say we’ll be _using our weapons_.”

               “That’s an affirmative, Iris Six. You signed up to fight the First Order, so you’re going to fight them. Better to get shot and learn today than get shot and burn tomorrow.”

               “Wait, Iris Leader. Why did I get concussion missiles? I thought these things mainly carried proton torpedoes.”

               “That’s because you’re my wingman, Iris Six. Besides, proton torpedoes don’t work well against standard Sienar shields, so we need options, and I know you can handle it. Two and Three, pair up. That goes for you too, Four and Five. The rendezvous is coming up in one minute, so Iris Squadron, report.”

               “Iris Two, standing by.”

               “Iris Three, standing by.”

               “Iris Four, standing by.”

               “Iris Five, standing by.”

               “Iris Six, standing by.”

               “Black Leader, _standing by_. I have concussion missiles too, Commander.”

               Figures Poe would want to get in on this too.

               “Good, because you’re flying this one solo at level four. No simulated wingmen, real ships only.”

               “Any particular reason? This isn’t exactly standard.” Poe sounds vaguely insulted, and you can’t help but smirk.

               “One of the mechanics was going on and on about your... _skills_ on Takodana and Starkiller Base. You always were a little shy to show off around me, so I just wanted to see if the rumors were true.”

               There’s no hesitation on Poe’s end as he fires right back. “If that’s all you wanted, all you had to do was ask. I’ve got _plenty_ to show you, if you’ll do me the same courtesy.”

               You can’t help but release a stifled breath. You gnaw on your lower lip as you think about how best to respond, but it sounded like Tok had had enough of your bantering. “Hey, Iris Leader, RV in three. Are we doing this, or do you two need more time to catch up?”

               The waypoint distance counted down until it read zero on your display.

               “Let’s do this, Iris Six. Champ, start the scenario.”

            All at once, your cockpit came to life with multiple warnings and tracking alarms as the ghostly holographic image of what must have been a First Order Battlecruiser materialized high above you. Around it, three smaller Corellian-made ships materialized, all trading fire with the First Order ship. These must have been Resistance or Republic ships fighting back. At least you didn’t have to worry about the Battlecruiser, just the TIE Fighters and assault shuttles, wherever they were.

            “Iris Four here. We’re supposed to fight _that_? It’s even bigger than the old Imperial Star Destroyers. We won’t have a chance!”

            You’d had the slight advantage of seeing what the objective was all about. Destroy the TIE Fighters, ground assault forces, and in some scenario variants, neutralize a crashed First Order corvette. This was one of those scenarios.

            “That’s a negative, Iris Four. Our mission is to take down any and all enemy fighters and troop landings. Keep your eyes peeled, they’re coming any minute now.”

            “Roger, Iris Leader.”

            Ahead of you, you see Poe’s fighter suddenly pull into a steep climb. Tik’s report came soon after.

            “I see them! TIE Fighters incoming, point-five high! Three squadrons!”

            “Iris Squadron, lock strike foils in attack position and shift deflector shields to maximum forward. Full speed ahead and follow my lead. Engage!”

            You pull your X-Wing up into a steep climb, and your squad pulls up along with you. You notice a few red streaks shooting past you, and you realize your squad is testing out their cannons. You decide to test out yours too, before you actually hit the TIE Fighters. Pulling the trigger on your control stick, you notice that your cannons fire one at a time, cycling between the four of them, and note the rising cannon temperatures on your weapon display. You’d have to manage that, for sure.

            Ahead, you note the green streaks of a TIE Fighter’s assault starting to dart past the small speck of Poe’s X-Wing. You’d be dodging those too, soon enough. Two squadrons seem to notice your approach and break off from attacking Poe to dive towards you. You and your squad return fire on the descending TIE Fighters, red shots passing green ones in the rapidly closing space between you.

            “Don’t get cocky, Iris Squadron, watch your shields,” you remind your squad as you check your own. As you get closer to the incoming TIEs, you see a few take direct hits from your squadmates, to no effect.

            “What the…? They have shields!” you hear Grax yell over the comms.

            You hear Poe grunt over the circuit before he answers. “Welcome to our world. These TIE Fighters aren’t made of flimsiplast like the Empire’s. Iris Leader wanted a challenge; you’ve got one. Oh, by the way, that’s _one_ for me.”

            You look ahead to see a red blast image replace what used to be a TIE Fighter before fading from view. Looks like you and your team were going to have to step it up. Looking around, you scrambled to find an answer to the shielded TIEs and your squad’s inexperience with X-Wings. Below, you spot it, a canyon that Poe had used as a checkpoint during one of your practicals.

            “Iris Squadron, keep firing. I have an idea to try in a second here.”

            “Anytime would be great, Iris Leader. I just took two direct hits.” On your screen, you notice Dotan’s shields had dropped to 40 percent.

            Luckily you were about to pass the TIEs. “Hang in there, Iris Five. Three, two, one, break!” As your squad passes through the group of a dozen TIE fighters, it splits up by pairs, the TIE Fighters similarly spreading out on your scopes. While you pull your X-Wing around to pursue the TIE Fighters, you flip through one screen to drop a navigation marker in the canyon.

            “Iris Squadron, I’m going to see how many of them I can draw off. Iris Two and Three, you’re my bombers, and that marker is your target. Get clear and then drop two torpedoes each right on that marker when I say so. Got it?”

            “Roger, Iris Leader. Let’s blow ‘em up.”

            “Great. Iris Four, cover Iris Five and harass any fighters that don’t take the bait. I’ll help you mop up when I come out of the canyon. Iris Six, on me. Any fighters that survive _four_ proton torpedoes, light them up with a concussion missile. Ready?”

            “Ready when you are, Iris Leader.”

            Well, here goes nothing. Somewhere along the way, a smuggler had taught you a trick to make it seem like you were suffering from engine damage, whether for official sympathy or to ward off the wrong kind of people.

            “Champ, cut power to the number three engine until it starts smoking.” Hopefully the simulation was observant enough for this to work. On your screen, you see power to engine three drop all the way to a few percent, and you could feel the strain on the fighter as you compensate for the now-unbalanced engines.

            “Here goes nothing, Champ,” you say as you dive towards the canyon. You check your scopes once. No fighters. Twice. It looked like five of the TIE Fighters had taken the bait. Not as many as you had hoped for, but it was better than nothing. You shift power to your rear deflector shields once the TIE Fighters dropped into the canyon to chase you as you race toward the marker.

            “Two, Three, stand by.” You pass the marker and pull up, rapidly climbing out of the canyon.

            “Now!”

            “Iris Two, torpedoes away.”

            “Iris Three, torpedoes away.”

            Behind you, the windows of your cockpit flashed bright white as four of the five dots disappeared from the scope.

            “One left. He’s limping. Light him up, Iris Six.”

             Rezla seemed only too happy to do so. There was another bright white flash behind you as the fifth dot disappeared from your scope.

            Suddenly, Poe’s voice crackles over the comms. “What are you guys doing down there? Those explosive flashes certainly got everyone’s attention up here. _Two_ for me.”

            “Fighting the First Order our way, Black Leader, that’s what we’re doing. _Five_ for Iris Squadron.”

            “Uh, make that seven, Iris Leader,” Grax adds. “Their shields are weak on the sides.”

            You whip your head around to look at their position, and note the two red blasts before they fade. _Good to know._

            “Great job, Four and Five, that leaves only three to go.”

            Poe can’t help himself. “Not if I get them first.” Almost immediately, one of the three TIE Fighters is replaced by a red blast. “Uh oh.”

            That didn’t sound good. Before you could get the question out, Rezla shouts, “Look out!” as two concussion missiles go rocketing past your cockpit. Ahead, you see what looks like a giant rock falling through D’Qar’s sky. It shatters into thousands of burning pieces as Rezla’s missiles hit it, taking out the two other TIE Fighters with it.

             Scratch two more for Iris.

            “What was _that_ , Black Leader?”

            “I told you, you got their attention up here. Now they’re hurling asteroids from D’Qar’s ring."

            Great. Just great.

            “Good to know. What _I_ wanted to know is, is that all?”

            The rest of your squadron had formed back up around you. “Yeah, why hasn’t the scenario stopped yet? All the TIEs are gone, so what gives?” You can easily recognize Tik’s voice, as impatient as ever.

            “Oh. That. Look up.”

               You look up to see what Poe was talking about as you notice the First Order Battlecruiser starting to list. At least, you thought it was listing. Instead, four attack shuttles and what looked like a few troop landers dropped out of a side hangar before the huge ship rose to orbit. As you turn to engage the small group of ships, Something else falls out of the sky and crashes to the ground. Something huge.

            “Karabast,” Rezla mutters under his breath.

            “What is it, Six?”

            “It’s an artillery shock platform, I think. There’s rumors of these being used in the western edges of the galaxy. Break, everyone!”

            You and the squadron break formation just in time to avoid being blown out of the sky by what looked like a fragmentation shell, followed by a hail of laserfire coming from the rim of the platform. This was definitely going to complicate things.

            “You’re not going to like this, team, but stay low. That should give us a chance until we figure out how to beat this.”

            Poe pulls alongside you again.

            “Quite a mess you’ve gotten us into, Commander. Any ideas for how to get out of this?”

               “Not yet, Black Leader, but I’m working on one. At the very least, we need to make life hard for those shuttles and landers before they get to the base.” Your team goes zipping across D’Qar in pursuit of the convoy just above the treetops, fragmentation bursts and laser fire crisscrossing above you all the while. “Is it always like this?”

               “On planets, yes. It’s exactly like this except without the missiles, Iris Leader. What are you going to do about it?”

               That was familiar. Only this time, you weren’t the struggling student. You could do this. You just needed an opening. Checking your scopes, you noted the shuttles and landers were still slowly making their way toward the base. The “base” was already taking enough damage from the artillery, according to your readouts, so the troops couldn’t be allowed to reach the base.

               “Iris Two, Iris Three, cut those shuttles off. Iris Six, you have concussion missiles. Help them out. Black Leader, you’re my wingman.”

               You’re answered by three echoes of “Roger, Iris Leader” before Poe gives his own reply. “ _Roger_ , Iris Leader. This should be interesting.”

               As the others peel away to chase the shuttles, Poe moves to replace Tik in the slot next to you. You had an idea of how to destroy the platform, but you weren’t sure whether you could get close enough to the platform without getting shot down. Looking over your shoulder at the laser batteries ringing the edge of the platform, you noticed that they moved rather slowly. Maybe if you flew _right_ past them, they wouldn’t be able to turn fast enough to lock onto you.

               You look over Champ’s combat scans of the platform to check your plan and right away, you see a major problem. If you flew directly at it, you would hit the platform’s shield, so this was going to require a different approach. Based on the laser batteries’ design, it looked like they couldn’t fire _straight up_ , so that was where you would have to be.

               “Iris Team, split up and circle the platform. I need you away from it for this to work.”

               “Sounds like you have an idea of what to do about the artillery platform. Care to share, Iris Leader?”

               “See how the lasers have a limited coverage arc? They can’t fire straight up, and the main cannon can’t track fast enough to hit a starfighter. The only way to hit it without crashing is by sending torpedoes _straight down_ , so I’m going to bomb it from a dead stall.”

               Based on the silence returned in the comms, you were certain that you actually sounded crazy. Luckily, you pick up on what sounded like a suppressed laugh. That could only be Poe.

            “Oh, knock it off, Black Leader. You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine. A deal’s a deal, remember? So watch this. I’m going for it.”

            You turned toward the artillery platform and accelerated, watching as the lasers crisscrossed above you. Their crossing point was approaching the platform slower than you were, so it seemed you would beat the laser battery tracking, if only barely. It was going to be close. Once you were sure you had beaten the lasers and you were about to come face-to-face with the platform’s shield, you pulled up _hard_ and pushed the engines to their limit. The extreme force presses you into your seat, and you were sure that if you survived this, you were certain to come back down a little shorter for a few days.

            In your head, you counted down. Based on your speed, you’d be high enough to cut your engines in seven seconds. At zero, you cut your engines and flipped your X-Wing to point straight down at the shield generator. You lined up the targeting marker and released two torpedoes for good measure. This had to work, since the “base” was down to half-strength now and quickly fading. You watch as the torpedoes fall, their orange glow growing smaller and smaller until they collide with the shield generator in a bright white flash. That was the cue to restart your engines and get out of there.

            “Black Leader, the shield is down. Take out that cannon! Four and Five, blast the platform corners. Let’s bring down those batteries so we can help the others mop up.”

            You release two more torpedoes towards a group of laser batteries and realize you were going to crash if you started your engines without taking any special measures.

            “Champ...give me reverse thrusters, now!”

            You felt the X-Wing’s fall jerk to a halt as Champ activated the emergency thrusters. That gave you just enough time to pull the nose slightly up as you started the engines. After a few seconds, the thrusters cut out, and you pulled up just in time to miss a large tree looming up in front of you. Behind you, a series of bright white flashes signalled the end of the platform, and you saw its outline disappear from your scopes.

            “ _That_ was a close one. Great job, team! Now, let’s go get the rest of them.”

            Looking ahead, the ghostly wisps of holographic smoke rising from D’Qar’s forest floor told you that the other three had downed at least two craft.

            “Intercept team, how’s it coming?”

            Tok’s voice replies. “We got two of the landers, Iris Leader, but these shuttles are _tough_. We wore down their shields to sixty percent or so before we got distracted when Six had to blast another meteorite with the last of his missiles, and now we’re not sure where one of the landers is. We found the other one and took out the stormtroopers with a torpedo. There aren’t any rules against that, are there?”

            You had to admit, it _did_ sound like overkill, but you couldn’t have your team doubting themselves when you needed them ready to fight, especially over something as routine as bombing soldiers.

            “War is hell, Iris Three. You got the job done, and that’s all I care about right now. The First Order doesn’t respect anyone or anything; they don’t understand mercy. Black Leader, you still have missiles?”

            “Negative, Iris Leader, just one left.”

_Better than nothing._

               Now that you had a moment to think, you were surprising yourself with your command of the situation, but you could pat yourself on the back later. Right now, you had to focus. You quickly marked the shuttles on the scopes for reference.

            “It’ll have to do. You take the first shuttle, and we’ll take the other two with our cannons. Two, Three, with me. Concentrate fire on the second shuttle. Four, Five and Six, take the last shuttle.”

            You, Tik and Tok, curve away to the second shuttle you marked. You begin firing at it, only to see that these shuttles could _really_ take a hit. This shuttle’s shields were draining far too slowly. At this rate, your weapons would overheat before you managed to bring down the shuttle.

            On the cannon readout, something began flashing frantically. At first, you were worried that something had gone wrong, until you realize it reads _Fire Mode Selector_. A second later, Champ speaks up.

            _If you fire all the cannons at the same time while I cycle the coolant, it should do it. I’ve already pinged the other BBs and they’ll do the same. I highlighted it for you. It’s the switch just under the trigger to change over._

            You feel around and find it, and as you flip it, the fire mode display turns red and now reads _Simultaneous_.

            “Iris Squadron, switch your cannons to simultaneous. It’s the switch under the trigger. Our droids are taking care of the heat issue. Let’s bring down that shuttle.”

            You and the others open fire, and now all four cannons fire at once. As your combined fire streaks toward the shuttle ahead, you watch as the shuttle’s shields rapidly collapse before the shuttle is replaced with a red blast. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the other two shuttles explode too.

            Over the comms, the others cheer, and you can’t help but smile. This was a rough, raw team, but it was _your_ team. Now all you had to do was find those stormtroopers. That should be simple enough…

               Your smile was cut short by an alarm on your squad panel. Tok had a faulty stabilizer, and he didn’t know it yet. You look over, and your fear is confirmed. One of his engines is starting to dim and is sending out short puffs of smoke. You’d seen this twice before, and you knew that Tok was going to lose that engine. The first time, Jess recovered perfectly. The second time, some hotshot in a starfighter race on Ryloth earned a fiery grave. You didn’t care how you did on the simulation, you were about to lose a teammate, and it was up to you to stop him from crashing.

            “Iris Three, climb. Now! Climb as fast as you can and follow my instructions. You’re about to lose an engine and spin out. Champ, stop the simulation. I’ll get the grade later.”

            Poe starts to give Tok direction too, but you needed to do this. It didn’t matter how many times Poe had seen this, you’d seen it too, and this was your crew. Tok didn’t have time to adapt to Poe’s style.

            “ _My pilot_ , Black Leader, cut the chatter. Control, Iris Leader. Stand by with fire and rescue teams for final approach. I’m recovering a failed engine on Iris Three’s fighter.” 

            “This isn’t a simulation,” you can hear Poe yelling. “This is _real_ , and we don’t have time for your-”

            “And I can do this,” you snap harshly, seething through gritted teeth. “I’m going to do this. No one else is going to die because of me. Not again. _Never_ again.”

               Adrenaline is beginning to flood your veins, and as you looked up, you saw Tok’s engine wink out and his fighter start to tumble. You had to shout over Tok’s yells of alarm to get your message across, and there was no time for protocol.

               “Tok, shut it and just follow my lead, I’ll get you down. Cut your engines, now!”

               You saw the red glow of his engines cut out and his fighter’s tumble slowed as it fell through the air.

               “Okay, there’s a switch just above the targeting readout, those are the emergency thrusters. Activate them, and tap the stick opposite your spin. _Just tap it_. Ready? Hit it, and restart your engines.”

               You fly towards Tok’s tumbling fighter and see the flash of his emergency thrusters go off, stabilizing his tumble to a slow roll. After a brief pause, a faint red glow reappears in three of his engines and you can see by his fighter’s wobble that he is struggling to keep the nose pointed straight.

               “Just keep pulling away from the missing engine, Tok, and we’ll make it back to base.”

               Pulling alongside his fighter and looking into the cockpit, you can see that he looks freaked out, but he flashes you a thumbs-up nonetheless.

               “Let’s never do that again. That was awful.”

               “I agree, Tok. Black Leader, that’s the third time I’ve seen a stabilizer fail on an X-Wing. Is there something I should know about?”

               “It’s a design flaw in the T-70, Iris Leader. They fixed it in the T-85’s but 70s are all we have here. What with Hosnian gone, I don’t think we’re going to get any 85s anytime soon, so we work with what we have.”

               “Any chance of finding 85-series stabilizers? I don’t like the odds of having a stabilizer go out like that.”

               “Every so often, we find a few on the black market and we have to modify them to fit a 70. It’s time consuming, but worth the work. _Black One_ here has two, Jess and Snap have a few, and _Iris One_ has one on engine 4. We haven’t found any more lately. Jess is the expert when it comes to retrofitting them.”

               Tik interrupts. “Well, we’ll all have to meet this Jess, but we’re coming up on the base, and my brother needs to get that fighter down for repairs.”

 _Right_. Ahead, Starfighter Alley was swarming with fire carts and people ready to grab Tok out of the fighter if something went wrong. Hopefully, they were all unnecessary.

               “Tok, you’re up first. Once you’re down, the rest of us will land. Go slow, and cut your engines for a repulsor landing.”

               Tok pulls up to the slot and settles into it agonizingly slowly. Once he’s on the ground, a lone firesuit-clad technician rushes up to the fighter and looks it over before holding both arms straight up in the air.

               “That’s the thumbs-up, everyone. Bring it in.”

               As you land your shuttle, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief. That had been more stressful than you had expected, but you had gotten everyone back safely, and that was what counted.

               Once you’re all on the ground, Poe takes over the comms one last time. “Not bad, Iris Squadron. Not bad at all. Keep flying like that, and I might eventually steal you away as my wingmen.” Poe might have been only half joking. “By the way, the simulation gave you a score of ninety-five percent just before you ended it. Welcome to the Resistance Starfighter Corps.”

* * *

 

               “So,” you say as you head back down the hallway with Poe. “Besides the fault stabilizer, I would say that was a productive session, wasn’t it?”

               “I would say so,” Poe agrees, his tone much more amiable than before. “You are better in _Iris One_ than I ever gave you credit for, and I’m impressed with how you managed to talk Tok down and keep a level head through each of the simulations. I’m still not thrilled about you flying with us, but I know you’ll be able to hold your own.”

               “I’ll be fine,” you reply firmly, keeping your gaze steady. “I’m not a little girl anymore. I can handle myself.”

               “I never said you couldn’t, but as you saw out there, this is going to be unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before,” Poe reminds you. “I can’t guarantee your safety.”

               “You haven’t been able to guarantee my safety for a while now, Poe, and I’m still alive. It hasn’t been easy and I’ve had more close calls than I’d care to admit to, but-”

               You stop suddenly as you glance down the hallway to see a Wookiee heading towards you at the other end. But this wasn’t just any Wookiee. You would recognize that bandolier anywhere. Without even thinking, you stop as you call out to him. “Chewie?”

               At the mention of his name, Chewie looks up and lets out a greeting call in Shyriiwook as you race towards him, your arms pumping at your sides. You jump into his furry arms as you bury your face in his chest, hugging him tightly to you as you ignore the unmistakable scent of Wookiee flooding your nostrils.

               You can hear Poe coming up behind you, but he’s suddenly fallen to the very bottom of your list of concerns as you look Chewie up and down. “I can’t believe you’re still alive.”

               Chewie smiles down at you as he lets out another growl in Shyriiwook. _You either._

“You’ve met before?” Poe asks curiously as he glances between you and Chewie. There’s something strange in his expression, as if he really is interested in knowing, but you’re not sure that’s a story that you really want to share. You suddenly fall silent as you scuff the toe of your boot against the tile floor, trying to make up your mind, but Chewie is quick to fill him in.

               _She was in the cell beside ours when we were captured by Kanjiklub’s men. She ripped the sleeves off her jacket to help make a tourniquet for my arm when I was injured._ He turns back to you. _But then they took you away. We feared the worst. What happened to you?_

“I managed to escape,” you reply as you look back up at him. “You honestly don’t even really want to know how, but I managed to get away. I went back for you guys, but you were gone. I didn’t know what happened to you.”

               Chewie puts his hand on your shoulder as he looks down at you. You want to say something about Han, you want to tell him that you’re sorry, but the words don’t come. Chewie had probably had enough of people apologizing to him, and he didn’t need any more reminders of what he had lost. It wasn’t so much a matter of wanting to forget them, just the pain that their absence had left.

               _I have to go,_ he says as he turns back to Poe. _Take care of her._

               Poe just nods as Chewie turns to go, and you look back and forth between them, struggling to figure out the right words to say that wouldn’t make you sound like a child. You wanted to tell Poe that he didn’t have to take care of you, that you weren’t his responsibility anymore, but the truth was that a part of you still wanted to be, and you weren’t quite sure how to reconcile that with your new sense of self.

               “So,” Poe says as he turns back to you, as if he’s completely unaware of your inner struggle. “It looks like you were a real smuggler after all.”

               “I told you,” you say pointedly as you continue walking back down the hall to your room. “I wasn’t playing pretend, Poe. It was kill or be killed sometimes, but I had to do it. I don’t want people fighting my battles for me. I want to take back Draboon from the First Order’s control, and to do that, I had to learn how to fight, how to survive.”

               “Maybe,” Poe replies, although his voice is cautious now, more reflective. “But independence has a cost. There’s nothing wrong with asking for help when you need it.”

               “And that’s why I’m here,” you reply, keeping your voice even. “But I’m not asking for handouts. If I want help, I need to contribute too, and now I’m in a position to do just that.”

               You’re almost to your door now, and you notice Poe slowing as well. It reminded you so much of how things used to be that you almost couldn’t stand it. It was a reminder of how good things used to be, a reminder of how things would never reach that same level between you again. The innocence between you had been broken now, and it didn’t seem like Poe was ready to forgive the mistrust that had worked its way between you yet. Maybe in time, maybe someday, but with the threat of the First Order fast approaching, neither of you could make each other a priority.

               “Well,” Poe says with some finality. “You know how to fly and command a team as well as you need to, so it looks like there’s nothing left for me to teach you. If you want to run any more drills with your crew, just let Control know, otherwise just sit tight until I give you your next orders.”

               “Roger that, Commander,” you say playfully as you raise your hand in an informal salute, hoping that it would ease at least some of the tension between you.

               Poe smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes as he looks down at you, and suddenly you just can’t help yourself as the words slip out of their own accord. “I didn’t want to leave but I thought I was doing the right thing.”

               You can feel your chest burn with the admission, and you can feel the adrenaline begin to rush through your veins again. Suddenly, you wanted to run, you wanted to hide, you wanted to do anything besides stand here and bear the look of judgement that had taken over Poe’s features.

               “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I bet.”

               And just like that, it’s too much for you to take. Did he honestly think that you wanted to leave? That you wanted to cause him so much pain? Did he think that you had just been able to move on, just like that? You cared for him more than anything, so much so that you were willing to put his safety above your desire to be with him, and yet he was acting like it didn’t matter to you at all? You know you should just walk away, you know you should just try to move on and go your separate ways, but you can’t, you just can’t, and your voice is thick with emotion when you speak next.

               “Look Poe, I’m sorry I left. I know I told you before that it was a mistake, and I’m not just saying that for your benefit. I missed you. I missed you so much. Leaving here hurt _so_ _badly_ , and sometimes there was nothing that I wanted to do but turn around and come back to you, but I had to do it. You heard Leia. I had to go. The First Order would have targeted you next, and I didn’t know what I would do if anything happened to you because of me. Okay, maybe that makes me selfish, but I couldn’t risk knowing that you were in danger just because of me. I got Garrett killed, I got my mother killed, and I couldn’t lose you too.”

               “I already had a target on my back,” Poe reminds you. “You leaving didn’t change anything.”

               “Well…” Your voice trails off, and you suddenly don’t know what to say. You had this whole big apology speech planned in your head, and suddenly now you can’t think of a single thing to say. Words didn’t matter now. Even if you somehow managed to articulate just how much pain you were in being back here and dealing with this rift between you, it didn’t matter. Your pain wasn’t Poe’s problem. He had moved on, and you would just have to do the same. There was nothing else left that you could do.

               Words wouldn’t solve anything, but you manage to stammer out some apology regardless. “I’m sorry. If nothing else, I want you to know that I’m sorry.”

               “I know.” Poe doesn’t meet your eyes as he turns to go, and you let him go without another word as you lean against the wall, letting your arms droop by your sides.

               You wanted to hug him again. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and feel him brush your hair out of your face as he told you that everything would be okay. But he doesn’t. He can’t. You had hurt him too badly, and he couldn’t be sure you weren’t going to run out on him again. Maybe you wouldn’t right now, but sooner or later, you would have to return to Draboon. That was your place, and his was right here, with the Resistance. Poe knew it, you knew it, and maybe Joran was right. It would hurt sooner or later, so maybe it was just better to end things sooner and just let things take their course.

               But right as Poe’s about to turn the corner, he stops to look back at you. He looks surprised for a moment, as if he didn’t expect you to still be there watching him, and his expression shifts into something you don’t quite recognize. You stand there silently, each waiting for the other to make the first move, but neither of you speaks. Neither of you does anything. Seconds become minutes before he looks away and heads around the corner.

               You stand outside your door, almost hoping he would change his mind and come back. Five minutes becomes ten. Ten minutes become fifteen, and still you waited.

               Poe didn’t come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this was honestly my favorite chapter of the whole story, to be honest (although the chapter where they crashland and fight for their survival is a _very_ close second. If nothing else, I think that Poe finally sort of opened up to the idea that, "Damn, my princess is a really good pilot now, and she sort of had to leave to spread her wings and get that good." So where can things go from here? Hopefully nowhere but up? Next chapter definitely focuses more on Poe coming to terms with her leaving, so take that as you will. 
> 
> PS: I wrote this before TLJ, but suddenly seeing Poe get that angry in the beginning of this part makes me uncomfortable, so apologies if it made you uncomfortable too. But I can promise that it's not in his future. The Reader was taking _a lot_ of cheap shots to fuel a reaction, and I think she definitely got one.


	25. Chapter 25

               Your bed was small.

               You would have thought that it would have been more comfortable than your cot, but your feet stuck out the end of your bed and you found yourself twisting and turning as you tried to fall asleep that night. You chalked part of your insomnia up to a guilty conscience, but even your cold shower hadn’t done you much good.

               Poe was right there on base with you, and yet you couldn’t touch him. You had given up that privilege, but now you would do anything, almost anything, to get that back. You tried to wrap the blankets around yourself in such a way that you could at least pretend that you were curled up in his arms, but it honestly just made you feel more pathetic than anything else.

               Poe, you were sure, was not acting as pathetic as you were right now. He was probably poring over strategies with General Organa and the upper echelons of the Resistance, preparing for when the First Order dropped out of hyperspace. It could happen any day now, and he was most certainly not concerned about you when faced with a bigger, more galactic, threat.

               And that’s what you had to do as well. You had to put your emotions aside and focus on what really mattered, and that was defeating the First Order. You weren’t going to be able to do it if you were sleep deprived and weary, and you had just convinced yourself that you were about to finally nod off to sleep when suddenly you hear a knock on your door.

               Well, something like a knock.

               You quickly push back the covers and get out of bed as you take two quick steps over to the door. You open it and look out into the hallway, but at first glance, it seems deserted. It’s not until you glance down that you notice that BB-8 had been rolling his large round body into the side of your door.

               “BB-8?” you ask cautiously, peering down at him as you pretend to wipe the sleep from your face. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

               _I need your help with something,_ BB-8 beeps as he looks up at you. _Will you come and help? Please?_

“It’s a little late,” you say as you glance back towards your bed. It’s tiny and disheveled, and suddenly a creeping sense of loneliness overtakes you as you glance back down at BB-8. “But lead the way.”

               You walk alongside his rolling round body without really paying much attention to where you were going. You were honestly tired now, tuckered out from the day’s excursions, and you’re about to tell BB-8 that you need to go back to bed when he stops in front of one door in particular.

               He extends his small mechanical arm and plugs it into a small port in the door that was only a few inches off the ground. “Well look at that,” you say amiably, as if you were talking to a small child. “You’ve got your own key.”

               BB-8 makes a happy whistling sound as the door opens and he rolls inside. You follow him in, expecting to see some sort of mechanical den, only to be faced with a room that looked a bit similar to the one that you had first stayed in when you had first arrived on D’Qar.

               “Is this your room, BB-8?” you ask, too mentally tired to put much together for yourself. “Why did you bring me here?”

               _I just want to help_ , BB-8 replies. You’re about to ask him what he’s trying to help with when suddenly he lets out a loud series of shrill beeps.

               “BB-8? What’s going on out there?”

               Your blood freezes in your veins, and you don’t have time to react as Poe appears in the doorway. He’s shirtless, wearing only his trousers loose around his hips. Surprisingly, that’s not the thing you notice first. He has a bottle of something in his hand, and for a moment you’re too shocked to react. Here you thought he was working all night to try to keep his mind off of you, and instead he was drinking by himself, alone in his room? That didn’t seem like the Poe you claimed to know at all, but suddenly you couldn’t be sure you had known him half as well as you thought you did.

               “What are you doing?”

               “Me?” Poe demands as he looks you over. “What are you doing? Why are you in my room?”

               “BB-8-” You look down at the little droid, but he just lets out another series of excited beeps and whistles before he turns and runs from the room, whooping excitedly as he goes.

               “I don’t know what that was all about,” you say as you turn back to Poe. “But I was asleep, in bed, when BB-8 woke me up and said he needed my help. Then he brought me here. Do you need my help? Is that what this is about?”

               Poe just shakes his head and rubs his face with one hand, as if he was too tired to deal with this as well.

               You know that you should just turn around and head back to your room, but you couldn’t leave. You were in Poe’s room for the very first time, and to be honest, you just weren’t ready to go just yet. “Are you drinking?”

               Poe looks down to the bottle and then at you. “Do you suddenly have a problem with it?”

               You shake your head from side to side. “No, but the First Order could show up on D’Qar’s doorstep at any second and you’re getting drunk?”  

               “No,” Poe says immediately. “No, no. I am not _drunk_. I’m drinking. There’s a difference.” He stares at you for a moment longer before he sighs and gestures for you to have a seat, putting the bottle on the table in front of you.

               “You want some? I’ll get you a-”

               He stops mid-sentence as he turns around to watch you drinking straight from the bottle, gulping down the thick brown nectar. “What?” you ask as you pull the bottle away from your lips. “You think I have glasses on my shuttle? There’s room for me and not much else.”

               “I’ve seen it,” Poe says as he sinks down on the other side of the couch. You want to say that you’re surprised, but no, a part of you had expected that Poe would look it over to see how you had been living while you were away. Was it a sign that he still cared, or was he simply curious? “Is that where you’ve been living all this time?”

               “There or in an alley,” you say as you pull the bottle into your lap. For some reason, it just felt comforting to have it there, especially with the look that Poe was giving you. “What? I don’t exactly have Draboon’s royal fortune backing me up anymore. Eventually the credits I had ran out and I had to learn how to make do on my own.”

               Poe just shakes his head. “You could have come back.”

               You want to deflect it, but you just take another sip of your drink as you shake your head. “I wanted to, Poe. I wanted to so many times. I missed you so much. The first week was the hardest. I kept telling myself that you would take me back, but another part of me was scared. I mean, I shot those guards trying to get out. I figured Leia was probably pissed, and I didn’t know if you’d ever forgive me for leaving in the first place. I was terrified that I’d come back here and you would hate me.” You take another swig from the bottle. “And now you do, so I was right.”

               “I don’t hate you,” Poe says as he leans forward to take the bottle from you. “I’m disappointed in you, yes, but I don’t hate you. You could have come to me first. We could have worked out a plan together. You didn’t even wait to try to work things out. You just ran.”

               “I couldn’t stay here anymore, Poe,” you say quietly. “My mom was dead, Garrett was dead, and I just couldn’t take it. I remember just sitting in that couch and staring at the seat he used to sit in and realizing that I was never going to be able to see him or talk to him again, and I just couldn’t take it. I didn’t want to deal with that. I didn’t want to deal with possibly losing you too, because I don’t know if I would have been able to deal with it if something happened to you because of me.”

               “Nothing was going to happen to me,” Poe says, but relinquishes the bottle to you nonetheless.

               “You were with me when the ship crashed,” you point out. “And then I woke up to find you in the middle of that shootout with those stormtroopers. If things had gone down differently, they might have killed you and then we never would have spent that night-”

               Poe looks up at you sharply, and you just focus your attention on the bottle in front of you, trying to drown out the weight of your thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just because I’ve never been that close to anyone before. Or maybe I’m just stupidly sentimental. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done, right?”

               “Hey, it means something to me too,” Poe replies as he takes the bottle back from you. Your mind is tired and you can feel the alcohol starting to take effect on your empty stomach, but your mind still catches the way Poe had said that in present tense.

               “I cared about you,” he continues, suddenly shifting tenses again. “And I would have done anything to help you. I don’t care what the risks were, I wanted to help you in any way that I could-”

               “And that’s why I had to go,” you insist. “You mean too much to the Resistance to risk it all for me.”

               “You still don’t get it,” Poe murmurs as he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have left the Resistance for you, if that’s what you were worried about. But we could have sent you somewhere, made sure you were safe. And yes, I could have come to visit you, on occasion. We could have still-”

               He shakes his head, and you quickly pull the bottle back as you pull it into both hands and drink heavily. “Easy, easy,” Poe says, but you just lower the bottle slowly as you avoid his eyes.

               “I should go,” you mumble miserably into the lip of the bottle. “You’ve moved on. You don’t want me here anymore.”

               “Did I say that?” Poe asks as he takes back the bottle. “I don’t remember saying that.”

               “The first time you saw me you didn’t even recognize me,” you point out. “And then the next time you saw me you acted like you didn’t care, like I was just a casual acquaintance passing through. And then in Leia’s office, you were yelling at me.”

               “I was yelling?” Poe echoes, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You started it.”

               “I’m not going to do this,” you say as you shake your head. “I’m not going to argue with you. I came back to help the Resistance liberate Draboon. That’s it. That’s all. Reconciling with you would have been a nice bonus, but it couldn’t be the main reason why I came back. It just couldn’t be.”

               “No,” Poe agrees as he takes another swig from his bottle. “No, it couldn’t be. I understand that. I don’t like it, but I understand that you did what you had to do.”

               “I really wish you could have been there with me,” you venture softly. “So many times I was in tough scrapes, and I just thought to myself, okay, what would Poe Dameron do?”

               Poe quirks up an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How’d that work out for you?”

               “I’m still here, aren’t I?” you ask, and Poe chuckles in response. “Although I do have a few scars to show for it.” You twist to the side as you pick up your shirt, revealing a three inch jagged scar of pink flesh along the side of your ribcage. Poe leans forward as he runs his fingertip over the scar, and you can’t help but shiver in response.

               “How’d that happen?”

               “Grazed by a blaster bolt,” you tell him, almost a bit proudly. “I’m lucky it wasn’t an inch to the left, or I’d be dead right now.”

               Poe’s expression sobers slightly. It looks like he’s mulling over something before he turns his back to you, lifting up the hem of his shirt slightly. “See that?” he asks, showing a mark on his lower back. “I know what that’s like. We were taking heavy fire and I dropped down onto my stomach to avoid being hit, but a low blast grazed me anyway.”

               He turns back around before you can touch it, but you do your best to try to conceal your disappointment. “Oh yeah? That’s nothing. You see this?” You pull up your pants leg to reveal a bright red patch of skin that was still covered with a glossy sheen. “I got stabbed. Through my leg. I was trying to crawl away from someone when suddenly I just felt this burning sensation in my side. I looked down and there was this vibroblade hilt just sticking out of my leg. For a moment I was just in shock, and I didn’t know-”

               You see the somber expression on Poe’s face, and you quickly shut your mouth. “Or maybe I just made that whole story up. Maybe I just scraped it in the hangar climbing out of my shuttle. Who’s to say?”

               Poe just shakes his head as he stands up, and you’re afraid he’s about to tell you to leave when he drops his pants somewhat to reveal a contusion on his outer thigh.

               “Ouch, how’d you get that?”

               “Thrown from a TIE Fighter,” Poe tells you, and your mouth opens and closes in surprise, but you have difficulty getting the words out. You almost don’t even want to ask, but suddenly you had to know.

               “How’d you manage to get your hands on a TIE Fighter?”

               “I flew one trying to escape from the First Order after I was captured.”

               You can feel panic rise up in your chest as you realize that you being there hadn’t truly made any difference after all. Poe could have been killed when he was captured running missions for Leia, and that had absolutely nothing to do with you. You thought he would be safer if you had stayed away from him, but it looked as though Poe was getting into all sorts of trouble on his own.

               “Is that how you got all those other marks too?”

               You scoot closer to him on the couch as you lean in closer to see the marks on his face. Poe doesn’t pull away, and you slowly reach up to run your fingertip along the cut above his eyebrow. Your fingers trail down to the scrapes along his cheek, and that’s when you notice that his lips are only inches away from yours. Your mind is suddenly so overcome by this notion that you don’t even notice that’s he’s cupped your face in his hand, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

               You jump with the sudden realization of how close you are, and as you do, your lips brush against Poe’s. The sharp burst of contact is all you need, and suddenly you find yourself sliding into his lap as you kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you hold him close to you. Poe’s arms wrap around you just as tightly, and you consciously have to remind yourself that this was real, that this was really happening.

               Your hands skim over Poe’s shoulders and down his sides as you try to take in every inch of him, try to remind yourself of everything that you had missed while you had been away. Poe seems to be doing the same as he runs his hands up underneath your shirt, his short fingernails skimming the length of your back.

               You can feel his length hardening through his jeans, and you move your hips in slow circles against him as you dip your head down to kiss his neck. Poe lets out a soft moan as you continue to kiss him, working down his shoulders as you continued to run your fingertips up and down his sides.

               Inspired by a sudden thought, you begin to kiss down his neck to his chest, slowly sliding off of him as you scooch down between his legs, pulling down the ends of his trousers with both hands. Poe seems to understand what you’re trying to do as he lifts his hips to help you pull them off, letting his erection come free.

               Without thinking, you quickly lean forward and take him in your mouth, wrapping your hand around the base. Poe lets out a sharp exhale as you begin to move your lips up and down along his length, flicking at his head with your tongue.

               When you reach the tip again, you take a moment to glance up at Poe, who’s watching you through hooded eyelids. He bites his lip as he sees you watching him, and reaches down to stroke your cheek as if to silently urge you to continue. You turn your attention back to what you were doing as you continue moving up and down his stiff length, focusing your tongue on the small space just underneath the head. As the tip of your tongue grazes the edge of his head, Poe releases the breath he was holding in with a small groan. You can feel his hips rocking underneath you, in time to your moments, and you start to move slightly faster and farther in response.

               Poe’s hand travels up from your cheek to just above your ear, where his fingers lightly rest in your hair as you continue up and down his length. Suddenly, you can feel his fingertips curl and his breath hitch in his throat as he stops rocking and tenses underneath you. He’s right on the edge, and you quickly give him more pressure around the base as you focus on the small space underneath the head.

               You can feel Poe’s fingers clench and unclench in your hair, and you can feel himself give in the back of your throat. You can taste his salty juices on your tongue as you let it pool in the back of your throat, swallowing only once you were sure he was done. You slowly ease your mouth gently off of him, licking his tip playfully as you pull away. Poe shivers at the contact, and you watch as his shoulders rise and fall as he rests his head back against the back of the couch.

               Was that it? You suddenly feel a creeping sense of loneliness come over you as you realize that this was probably it, this was probably done. Poe was sloshed right now, but in the morning, he would realize this was a mistake. That’s why he hadn’t pushed you away. He didn’t want intimacy, he just wanted release, and now that you have given that to him…

               Poe picks you up suddenly as he grabs you by your upper arms and pulls you onto his lap. He kisses you forcefully as he wraps his arms around you again, and you just kiss him back gently, trying to disguise the whirlwind of emotions that were starting to bubble up inside of you.

               “Arms around me.”

               You do as you’re told and wrap your arms around his neck as he picks you up, taking your butt in both hands as he stumbles into the bedroom, never once breaking the kiss. You don’t even have time to take stock of your surroundings as he lies you down on the end of the bed, hovering over you.

               “Are you sure you want to do this?” you ask quietly.

You regret the words as soon as they come out of your mouth.

               “Just this once.”

               Poe immediately dips down as his lips meet your entrance, but you can feel a chill come over you. Just this once? Just this one time? So what was the point of this, closure? As much as you wanted him, you knew you wouldn’t want it to stop at just one time, and if you went ahead with this, you would only be doing so hoping that you could convince him somehow that one time would lead to another, and another. You were setting yourself up for disappointment, and you knew that, but you couldn’t think of anything to say to stop it.

               Poe grabs your hips and pushes you towards him forcefully as he works harder to grab your attention, and you can’t help but groan as you let your head drop back onto the bed. Poe lets out a small growl as he can feel you becoming affected, and you lean forward as you fist one hand in his hair, trying to silence any and all doubts that you may have had. Maybe Poe really meant what he said and you were only going to get one more night together, but if that was the case, didn’t that mean you should at least try and enjoy it while you still could?

               You shiver underneath him as you can feel yourself growing closer. You had dreamed of this day since you left, had played it over and over again in your mind, but nothing compared to the feeling of Poe right in front of you. If this really was only going to happen the once, you wanted to draw it out for as long as possible, but your body seems to betray you as you find yourself already starting to give.

               You let out a small sound from the back of your throat as you throw your head back into the bed again, trying to preserve this for as long as possible. Poe seems to sense that you’re about ready to slip over the edge as he moves away from your soaking entrance and starts placing sloppy kisses along the inside of your thigh, working his way up your stomach to kiss your face. You pull his body over yours and wrap your arms around his neck as you can feel Poe’s length move along your thigh before he slowly slides into you.  

               You throw your head back into the bed again as you can feel Poe languidly moving inside of you, thrusting his hips at a leisurely pace. You run your hands through his hair before you just let them rest along his back, holding him to you. Poe looks as though he wants to say something, but he seems to decide against it as he reaches down and places his lips directly above yours, waiting for you to make the first move. You reach up slightly to kiss him, softly, bumping the tip of his nose with your own.

               You don’t know how long you lie there for, with Poe gently moving in and out of you while you kissed softly, trying to preserve the moment for as long as possible. Eventually, though, Poe picks up the rhythm as he starts to move inside of you, moving faster with every thrust. You wrap your legs around his waist as you cross your ankles, pushing back with your own hips as you try to get as much friction as possible. Just when you think you can’t take anymore, Poe lets out a gasp as he buries his face in your neck, and you follow just a moment later, your legs shuddering as you cum.

               You don’t want this to be the end, but Poe just kisses your cheek as he moves out of you, and you make no move to stop him. He rolls over onto the bed beside you before he extends an arm, and you quickly move to lie next to him. You collapse into his chest as Poe wraps his arms around you, smoothing your hair back with one hand as he nuzzles your forehead. You cuddle closer to him, hoping to find relief, but only finding fear and anxiety in its place.

               He had said just this once, and you didn’t doubt that he probably meant it. His emotions had been so all over the place since you had been back, from treating you with casual indifference when he first saw you again, to anger when you had told Leia that you wanted your X-Wing back. But then he had been flirting with you during your training exercises, and now this. Did he even know what he wanted when it came to you?

               Or maybe he was too drunk to think things through properly. Maybe in the morning, when he was stone cold sober, he would hate you for this too. Even when you were trying to make things right, you still couldn’t help but think that you were doing everything wrong regardless. You hated feeling this way, absolutely hated it, but you couldn’t control how he felt about you, no matter how much you may have wished to.

               “Hey,” Poe says quietly as he kisses your temple. “You okay?”

               “Yeah,” you whisper back, relieved that he couldn’t really see your face in the dark. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

               “Good.” He kisses your temple again as he tightens his hold on you. “Because if you’re thinking about running away again, I’m going to have to chain you to this bed.”

               The thought does dangerous things to your insides, but you can’t help but shift restlessly beneath him. “If you do, I think it might lead to more than _just this once_.”

               Poe pauses for a moment as he tries to figure out what you mean. You can just manage to catch the surprise on his face as he rolls over onto his back, away from you. You let your head hang as you look away, embarrassed with yourself yet again. You couldn’t just cuddle up to him for at least one night? You couldn’t just let it go?

               “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

               “We can’t do this.”

               That was the last thing you wanted to hear, and you physically pull away from him as you sit up. Right now, you were just setting yourself up to be rejected, and it was going to hurt much worse if you didn’t break things off for good. Poe seemed to sense it, but you kept your fingers crossed, kept hoping that he might change his mind and go back to the way things had been. But no, people had died, lives had been lost, and there was no way you could go back to the way things used to be.

               You make a move to get off the bed when Poe grabs your hand suddenly. You freeze in place, not looking at him. You couldn’t look at him. Honestly, you weren’t quite sure you’d be able to look at him ever again.

               “Look,” Poe begins quietly. “I’m sorry. It’s not you, it’s just…the First Order is going to be on our doorstep any second, and we need to get ready for that. We can’t get distracted by whatever this is. It’s not you, it’s not me, it’s just the situation.”

               “That’s why I left the first time,” you remark bitterly. “It wasn’t you. It wasn’t me. It was just the situation.”

               “No, it was you too,” Poe points out. “You just lost your mom, your planet, your home, and you didn’t know how to deal with that. I heard what you told them out there. You didn’t want to lose me too, so you ran before you had a chance to.”

               “Well I’m losing you right now. Isn’t that what’s happening here?”

               “You’re not going to lose me,” Poe says as he kisses the inside of your wrist. “I just think we should hold off on things until things settle down.”

               You want to acquiesce just to end this conversation, but you couldn’t, because Poe was wrong. He was dead wrong.

               “No,” you say as you turn back to face him, suddenly brimming with conviction you didn’t know you had. “No, I’m not going to accept that, and I’ve got a multitude of reasons as to why. You heard Leia back there. We work better together. We are stronger together. You honestly think awkwardly skirting around each other is going to help anything? Maybe it’s not going to distract you, but it’s going to distract me. And this whole thing about the First Order, that doesn’t work either. Things aren’t going to just settle down, Poe. Maybe they never will. This is our chance to live, right now, don’t you want to take it? Maybe the war never ends. Maybe one of us dies before this whole thing is through. Do you really want to wait for something that may never happen? Can you live with that?”

               Poe stares at you for a moment, gnawing on his lower lip, and in the dim light you can just manage to catch his expression. You had only seen it a handful of times before, but you knew what this one meant. “No.”

               He reaches to kiss you, but you don’t wait as you lean forward and plop yourself on top of him, placing your hands on either side of his face as you kiss him again. He wraps his arms around you as he holds you into his chest, and for once you can feel yourself starting to relax.

               “You told me before that we’d figure things out together,” you remind him. “Can we still do that? Please?”

               You can hear Poe let out a snort of amusement as he reaches down and kisses the top of your head. “Yeah, I think we can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're welcome. ;) Haha I've literally been waiting too long for these two crazy kids to make up with each other and present a united front against the First Order instead of being at each other's throats (unless it's in a good, naughty way.) Also, just an aside, I know the showing off scars leading to fucking thing is a big trope ala Lethal Weapon 3 but dammit as far as tropes go, it's one of my favorites, and I like how our Princess, who probably wasn't even allowed to skip rope without fear of tripping and bruising a knee, has all these awesome battle scars now to show her competence. Either way, I hope you liked it!! Until next week, cheers!!


	26. Chapter 26

               You let out a sleepy murmur as you roll over onto your side, cuddling further into the bundle of warmth lying beside you. You can feel a gentle kiss on your forehead as someone smooths your hair back and out of your face. You relax into it with a soft purr, your mind still on the border between waking and sleeping, before you hear a quiet chuckle from above you.

               “That’s cute, but I really do need to get going.”

               A voice. Poe’s voice.

               You sit up with a start, and Poe seems to take this as an opportunity to get up as he begins dressing. Your mind sleepily tries to put together what he said, but all your mind can come up with is _get going_.

               He wanted you to get going. He wanted you to leave.

               But you seem to have forgotten how to move as Poe moves around his room, getting dressed without another look back in your direction. You can feel overwhelming emotions stirring inside of you again, but those could wait for later. Right now, you tried to look as smooth and unaffected as possible while you secretly cowered underneath Poe’s blankets, dreading the moment when you would have to face how awkward this was.

               He finally turns back to look at you, and he almost seems a bit surprised to catch you staring. “It’s early. You don’t have to get up yet. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

               “Here?” You don’t mean it the way it comes out, and you quickly make an effort to recover yourself. “I just mean, in your room?”

               “You’re already here,” Poe says with a shrug. “Might as well.”

               “All by myself?” you venture cautiously, and Poe gnaws on his lower lip as he rolls his eyes back over to you. “What time do you have to be in the command center?”

               “Now,” Poe tells you, but you can’t help but press your luck.

               “And there’s no way you can’t spare at least, maybe, ten more minutes-?”

               “Ten minutes?” Poe asks incredulously as he turns around to face you. “Do you know what could happen in ten minutes? The First Order could attack or-”

               “I get it,” you say hastily as you drop your gaze. “I get it, I-”

               You don’t even have time to finish speaking as you suddenly feel Poe jump onto the bed. In an instant, his body is hovering over yours and he has your wrists pinned to either side of your head with his hands. You can feel his hot breath against your face, and for a moment, you couldn’t imagine what had possessed you to even leave to begin with.

               “Five minutes.”

               “No,” you reply, suddenly deciding to play coy. “No, you said you had to be in the command center now, didn’t you?”

               Poe just grins as he reaches down to kiss you, but you struggle this way and that, rolling your head from side to side as you try to avoid him. Finally, Poe manages to trap your lips in his own, and you surrender to him as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you.

               You let Poe slip away before, but you were not going to make that mistake again.

 

               You stir restlessly as you slowly sit up in bed, taking stock of your surroundings. For a moment, you were completely unaware of where you were. This was the Resistance base, but this was not the tiny bed you had been lying in before. No, this bed was much more comfortable. The room was much bigger, and it smelled vaguely of machine oil.

               Poe’s room. Poe’s _bed_. You sit up suddenly as you clutch the sheets to your chest, suddenly feeling much more exposed than you should have. The events of the night before slowly flicker back into your brain, and you can’t help but sink your face into your hands as you brush your hair back out of your face.

               That had happened. This morning had happened. It seemed you and Poe were together again, but you couldn’t honestly say what that meant. You wanted your relationship with Poe to go back to the way it was before you had left, but that was impossible, even you knew that much. You were asking for the impossible, and yet, as of right now, it didn’t feel completely out of reach.

               Slowly, you get to your feet as you glance around the room. It was quiet, and you couldn’t help but feel oddly vulnerable. You find your pants and quickly pull them on, but for some reason, you pick up your shirt only to put it down on the edge of the bed. Without even really thinking about what you were doing, you open up one of the drawers and pull out one of Poe’s shirts, sliding it on over your head.

               It still smelled like him, and you held the fabric to your face for a moment as you breathed it in. When you were back in your shuttle, floating through the depths of space, you had wished you had _something_ from Poe to remind you that he was real, that he had really cared for you as well as your imagination let on. You wanted a real physical thing with you, and while a shirt was hardly a token of intimacy, it was better than nothing.

               You want to explore his apartment more, but there’s a sudden knock on the door that makes you flush. Did someone know you were inside? You weren’t quite sure whether you should open the door or just let them walk away, but if they did decide to come in, it would only be that much more awkward as they wondered why you hadn’t just opened the door for them in the first place.

               Momentarily forgetting that you’re still wearing Poe’s shirt, you quickly make your way to the door and pull it open. Fortunately, it’s just Joran and BB-8, and you let out a sigh of relief.

               “Hey, guys.” You open up the door for them to enter, but only Joran walks through.

               _You look like you’re doing better_ , BB-8 observes from the doorway.

               “Perhaps,” you manage, unable to conceal the blush that graces your cheeks. “Don’t you want to come in, BB-8?”

               _Can’t,_ is his beeped reply. _I just saw Joran looking for you so I directed him here. I have things to take care of in the maintenance bay._

“Say hi to Champ for me,” you say brightly, and BB-8 lets out a few pleased whistles and beeps as he turns and heads back down the hall.

               “So,” you say nervously as you close the door, almost too ashamed to look at Joran directly. “You were looking for me?”

               “You weren’t in your room,” he replies. He has his arms crossed over his chest, but that’s about all that you can make out from the corner of your eye. “What happened?”

               “To be fair, this isn’t my fault,” you say, almost a bit desperately, as you move to sit down on the couch. You pull your knees into your chest, and Joran takes one of the seats across from you.

               “Your fault?” Joran echoes, tilting his head to the side as if he genuinely didn’t understand. You had expected a scolding, but perhaps he was going to be more civil about this than you were expecting.

               “I just…” Your shoulders rise and fall uncomfortably. “I was in my room last night when BB-8 came by. He said he needed help and so I got out of bed and followed him. I didn’t know he was going to bring me here.”

               “To Commander Dameron’s room.” Joran says it in such a way that it’s neither a statement nor a question, and you can’t help but roll your shoulders uncomfortably.

               “I didn’t know that at first,” you remind him. “We sat down. We talked. Then things just sort of happened from there.”

               “Okay.” Joran looks about as awkward as you feel, and it’s almost all you can do to keep yourself composed.

               “So what did you want?” you ask. “Did something happen? Do you need me for something?”

               “Oh, no,” Joran says with a shake of his head. “I was just outside your door when BB-8 rolled by. He stopped and asked what I was doing and I told him I was looking for you. Then he brought me here.”

               “Looking for me?” you echo. “Why were you looking for me?”

               “Because.” Joran rolls his shoulders uncomfortably. “I’m supposed to be looking out for you, aren’t I? You weren’t in your room. Any number of things could have happened-”

               “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” you say quickly. “This base may have been compromised before, but it’s secure now. They’ve stepped up their defenses.”

               “They’re evacuating,” Joran says flatly, and you can’t help but roll your shoulders.

               “Moving to a new base,” you offer. At least that one had a favorable ring to it. “And soon. The First Order knows where they are, where _we_ are, and so it makes sense to head out before they get here.”

               “Yes, it does,” Joran agrees. “So why have you not left yet?”

               “Because I’m not _evacuating_ ,” you reply, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. “I’m going to be up there fighting, taking out TIE Fighters and making sure that everyone else gets out okay.”

               Joran hesitates for a moment before he shakes his head. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, that’s not your place. It’s not your place to try to defend the Resistance, especially when they did so little to come to our defense.”

               It sounds like the kind of argument that Garrett would have once made, so long ago, and you can’t help the frustration that looms over you. Garrett should be here right now. Garrett should be _alive_ right now. It was only your fault that he wasn’t.

               “Mistakes have already been made, Joran. I’m sure if she could take things back, Leia would have intervened to save Draboon, but now it’s too late. The _only_ hope we have of rescuing Draboon now is to eradicate the First Order’s presence from the galaxy. That’s the only way we can get our planet back.”

               “We don’t know that,” Joran points out. “Look at what you managed to do before. You managed to recruit a small band of smugglers to join the Resistance. Maybe you’re approaching this from the wrong angle. Instead of looking to the Resistance for aid, why not find aid yourself? Go to the Inner Rim, appeal to the Core Worlds. Try to amass a small crew to help take Draboon back. We don’t need an army, just a few skilled fighters-”

               “No.” You cross your arms over your chest and shake your head like a petulant child. “I won’t listen to this, Joran. It’s nonsense. Anyone we recruit could easily betray us to the First Order, and then we’d be in a worse place than when we started.”

               “And you can trust the Resistance?”

               “Yes.”

               “Or just Commander Dameron?” Joran raises an eyebrow and you just shake your head, unsure of how to respond.

               “You know how I feel about him,” you manage at last. “I’m not going to hide it. He means everything to me, and I know he shouldn’t, and I know Draboon has to come first, but I have to come to terms with the idea that there may not be a future for me on Draboon. I know I need to go back and liberate our people, but I’ve been gone for too long. People think I’m dead. For all I know, they could have overthrown the First Order and developed a democracy in its place before I could get back there.”

               “Forgive me, but that is foolishness, Your Majesty,” Joran tells you. “Draboon has had and always will have a royal family to be our symbolic figurehead. It’s just the way things have always been done.”

               “Draboon has also never been held hostage, never by the Empire nor the Separatists nor any groups that have come before it,” you point out, but it seems Joran is resolute.

               “Then what better time to remind the people of our true traditions?” Joran asks. “My father always told Garrett and I that our highest loyalty was to our planet and to our Queen, to your mother. Now that title has fallen to you.”

               “But you don’t want me to have it, do you?” you ask, not altogether unkindly. “Be honest with me for a moment, Joran. If the title could fall to anyone else, you would want it to fall to someone other than me, wouldn’t you?”

               “I think…” Joran seems to struggle with himself for a moment. “I think that the title should go to someone who truly wants it, but that’s not the point. The point is that the title doesn’t fall to just anyone. You were selected for this role through your birth right, and you have to honor it.”

               “I know,” you reply. “And I will. Eventually. That’s why I’m helping the Resistance take out the First Order. I don’t want to see our people suffer any more than you do.”

               “But then why-?” Joran stops talking as the door opens suddenly, and you both jump to see Poe standing in the doorway, looking just as surprised as you feel. Time seems to stop for a moment, and it feels as though all of the air has been sucked out of the room.

               Finally, it’s Joran who speaks first. He gets to his feet and bows with a quick, “Your Majesty,” before he turns and heads for the door. He gives Poe a quick nod as his feet carry him out into the hallway, and Poe quickly closes the door behind him.

               “I’m sorry,” you say quickly as you get to your feet, wringing your hands in front of you like a child.

               “No,” Poe says as he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect that you would still be here when I got back.”

               Your insides go cold. You suddenly feel like you’ve shrunk to less than half your size as you grind your toe into the floor. “I didn’t want you to think that I ran away again.”

               Poe’s expression softens as he comes towards you. He moves slowly, placing his hands on your waist. Each move was controlled and deliberate, asking for permission, and you grant it as you reach up to kiss him. It’s a soft kiss, gentle, and you couldn’t help but melt into his arms slightly.

               “You okay?” Poe asks as he smooths your hair back. “You didn’t look happy when I came in.”

               “I don’t know,” you reply with an idle shrug. “You know who Joran is, right?”

               Poe pauses for a moment, as if he doesn’t want to bring himself to say the name. “Garrett’s brother.”

               “Yup,” you agree miserably. “He, uh, he hates me. Not that I blame him-”

               “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.”

               “No, he does,” you say as you finally pull away from Poe to sit back down. “He told me that to my face the first time he met me.” You shake your head. “I’m not the Queen he expects. I’m not the Queen he wants…but it is what it is, I guess. There’s no use talking about it.”

               Poe frowns as he sits down beside you. “Then what do you want to talk about?”

               “Us.” The word comes off your lips before you can take the time to think about how Poe might take it. “I just mean, we never really did get a chance to talk about everything before. Snap and Jess came and then that was that.”

               “Then that was that,” Poe repeats quietly as he glances away. His eyes adopt a far-off expression, as if he’s thinking deeply about something, and you can’t bring yourself to disturb him. “I was thinking, at least for now, we should keep this just between us.”

               “Just between us?” you echo blankly. Alarm shoots through you, although you’re not sure why. “So you don’t want anyone to know that we’re-?”

               “Last time you were worried about someone targeting me if we got too close, right?” Poe asks. “Well if no one knows, then you have nothing to worry about.”

               “Not many people know that I’m the Queen now, either,” you point out. Regardless, he gives you a few moments to think it over. “I don’t know if that would even work, to be honest. It’s not like I’m going to walk around base holding your hand or kiss you in the middle of the command center. I don’t know, I see your point, but I just don’t want to walk around acting like we still hate each other when I’m sure Jess and Snap and everyone else can see through it anyway.”

               “Fair,” Poe relents, but you can still tell that something is troubling him.

               “You don’t really want me to be here, do you?” you ask slowly, and Poe looks up at you sharply. “Look, just, it’ll hurt now or it’ll hurt later, but if it’s how you really feel, I’d rather it just hurt now. If you think you made a mistake last night, just tell me and I’ll go, no questions asked. I won’t tell anyone what happened, I won’t be rude or short with you, and we can just go on like nothing ever happened.”

               “That’s not what I want,” Poe says without even missing a beat. “Is that what you want?”

               “No.” You shake your head back and forth. “No, not at all. I spent every night since I left wishing we were back together. I don’t want to give it up now. You just look really pensive, that’s all.”

               “I wasn’t sure if you’d honestly be here when I got back,” Poe says with a shake of his head. “But I’m glad you are. You’re right, things won’t be like they were before, but they can’t be. Before, the threat of the First Order was looming, but it wasn’t _here._ Now the threat _is_ here. The fighting’s already begun. I need to put the Resistance first. I need to put the safety and the lives for all of my fighters first. I need to make that a priority. I can’t…” He seems to wrestle with himself for a moment. “I can’t make you a priority. I need you to know that.”

               “I know,” you say quietly. Poe looks concerned, but honestly, all you feel is a sick sense of relief. “I know, and that’s good, Poe. I don’t want you to put me first. You have your responsibilities with the Resistance, and I don’t want to interfere with that. I have my own responsibilities to my planet, to my people. That has to be my priority. I want to put you first too, but I think you already understand why, why I can’t.”

               You can barely believe that the words are coming out of your mouth, but they’re there. For some reason, it makes you feel worse. For some reason, it feels like _the end_ , but you don’t want it to be.

               “Hey, hey.” Poe reaches out and takes your hand in his. “And that’s good, okay? That’s good. That’s what we need to do right now. We have other responsibilities to take care of, so we have to be honest with each other, all right? We have to keep our lines of communication open, to make sure there’s no misunderstandings. No trust issues, no miscommunications, just two people, working things out.”

               “I think I can do that,” you say as you nod your head. “You’re my Commander. I’m bound to your orders regardless.”

               “Not when it’s just the two of us.” Poe can’t help but crack a grin. “Besides, you’re Queen of an entire planet now. I think you outrank me.”

               You try to force a smile, but you can’t deny the sobering effect it has on you as you glance down and away. You were _supposed_ to be Queen of an entire planet. “I’m not much of a Queen without people to rule over, I’m afraid.”

               “We’ll get back your planet.” The confidence in Poe’s voice couldn’t be understated, but you just twist uncomfortably in your seat. Honestly, right now, you wanted to go. You wanted to run. Poe seems to catch your eyes glancing towards the door as he puts a hand on your knee. “Hey, look at me, talk to me, what’s wrong?”

               “I don’t know.” You shake your head as you focus on a far corner of the room, making sure you couldn’t see Poe’s expression. “I just don’t think I can be Queen.”

               “I think-”

               “I don’t know if I _want_ to be,” you say hotly. Poe’s overwhelming confidence in you was good some of the time, but you didn’t appreciate it just now. “I just, I still can’t forgive myself for coming here. Maybe if I didn’t, my mother and Garrett and everyone else would still be alive and I’d still have control of my planet.”

               “There’s no way to know,” Poe says quietly.

               “But I can’t escape it,” you say with a miserably shrug of your shoulders. “It’s there, it’s done. I was born to be Queen of a planet. That’s it. That’s all.”

               “That’s not all,” Poe counters, and you can’t help but look up at him desperately, hoping for some keen bit of insight to help you feel better about this whole situation. “You weren’t just born to be Queen of your planet. You were also born to fly.”

               You collapse slightly and just shake your head, but Poe continues regardless. “Don’t underestimate yourself. You’re a fantastic pilot, much more than I’m honestly giving you credit for. Think about when you first came here. You were poring over manuals and researching theories that were much more advanced for your skill level, but you mastered them anyway, especially in such little time. Not everyone can do that. You understand things that people who have been studying this stuff for _years_ still don’t understand.”

               “I’m pretty sure that’s why my mom wanted me to train with you,” you point out. “The best instructor that the galaxy had to offer.”

               “It wasn’t me,” Poe says resolutely. “That was you. I told you what to read. I answered your questions. I pointed you in the right direction and I made you think critically about what you were doing and there were times, there were so many times, when I was honestly floored by how insightful you were, how you thought of ways to make the best out of a tough situation, even better than veteran pilots that have been flying their whole lives. Look at what you just did out there. You recovered from a _dead drop_. The others thought you were nuts, and the only thing I could think of was, that’s my girl. That’s exactly what I would have done. How many pilots would even dream of doing that, let alone go through with it? Most would be too afraid to do in combat, let alone a training simulation.”

“And I’m not just impressed by that. Look at the way you handled your team. Look at how you kept a level head throughout everything. You never panicked, not once, not even when Tok’s engine was failing. I was so mad at you for a moment. I thought that you were getting blinded by wanting to prove me wrong so much that you might be willing to let Tok take the fall for it, but you knew what you were doing. You kept your head and you knew what he needed to hear to talk him down. You honestly saved his life.”

               It’s all high praise, especially coming from Poe, but you just felt too embarrassed to accept it. “His life was only in danger because of me. I’m the one that brought him here. If he died-”

               “That would have been on him.” Poe takes one of your hands in his and squeezes it. “I need you to listen to me now, Iris Leader, and I mean really listen. I have never seen you as confident as you are when you’re up in the air. It’s like everything falls away and you just become so focused and driven, it’s like nothing else affects you.”

               “But I need you to hear me when I say that members of your team will die. It’s not a certainty, but it’s a probability. While you were gone, I lost L’ulo. I lost Oddy. I didn’t think it was possible. One moment he was there, and the next I realized that he wasn’t coming back to D’Qar with us. There’d be one more empty seat at the table, and at first I wasn’t sure how to deal with that.”

               “But I need to remember, it’s not my fault that he died. It still feels strange to say, even now. I know it’s the First Order’s fault, that he wouldn’t have been up there if it wasn’t for them, but L’ulo knew the risks, just like Garrett knew the risks. Your mother knew the risks.” You look away, but Poe holds firm. “No, look at me. It was Garrett’s choice to come here. It was your mother’s choice to do what she thought was right, for you, for Draboon, for everyone. You can’t take responsibility for their choices. It’s not right, and what’s more, it’s not fair to them. You need to respect what they did, the sacrifices they made, so that you can keep fighting.”

               “And there may come a day, and I know you don’t want to hear this, that I might not make it out. I might not come back.” You can’t look at him now. Hot tears are beginning to trail down your cheeks, but Poe keeps talking. “But I need you to know that’s not your fault. That was my choice. I chose to fight, and it’s not your responsibility to protect me, just like it’s not my responsibility to protect you. I’m going to, because I want to, but I know if something happens that you made your choice in this, just like I did, and I’m going to respect it.”

               He was right. You had never imagined Poe to be this deep and this insightful, but you couldn’t deny the burning you felt in your chest, confirming that he was right. All at once, you hated yourself more than you ever had before. You had never even given him a chance to try to talk you through this before you left. Sure, it wasn’t his responsibility to, but you hadn’t even given him a chance to help you grieve before you had taken off.

               “Why did I leave?”

               It’s not a question Poe should answer, but he does regardless. “Because you had to prove to yourself that you could be alone. Because you were scared. You were scared because you had lost them, that you might lose me, and you didn’t know what else to do. And I’m proud of you, okay? I’m so proud of you. I know it was dangerous. I know it hurt you. And I wish you had stayed here, stayed safe, where I could watch over you, but you became the person that you knew you needed to be in this war, and I can’t think of anything more admirable than that.”

               You just shake your head, hoping desperately that Poe wouldn’t see the flush on your cheeks through your tears. So this was what he thought of you, then. You felt giddy, honestly, and your heart trembled in your chest as you held his hand a little bit tighter. You couldn’t begin to even describe what you were feeling for him in that moment. You admired him, for his wisdom, for his honesty, for the way he seemed to see right through you. What you had done had hurt him, but he had been able to not only understand it, but not let it affect the feelings that he held towards you.

               There was something in that, some deep profound sense of longing that you didn’t know how to put into words. You felt your jaw go slack as your hands trembled at your sides, and the words slipped out regardless.

               “I love you.”

               Your heart sinks as soon as the words leave your lips. Did you love him? Or were you desperate not to lose him? You couldn’t be sure, but the emotions stirring inside of you were overwhelming, and you had never felt anything like this towards anyone or anything. It was almost like your affections for him were pushing at the inside of your chest as if they were physically trying to claw their way out of you.

               Poe just smiles good-naturedly at you as he brushes back a strand of hair and tucks it behind your ear. “You know, normally I’d say that you beat me to the punch, but if everything I said wasn’t a declaration of love, I don’t know what is.”

               A smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “You can still say it, though.”

               Poe cups your cheek in his hand, drawing your eyes up to his. “I love you too.”

               For a moment, you thought you were going to faint. You felt your head crash back into the sofa behind you, and although you quickly realized that it was because Poe was kissing you so ardently that you could barely suck in a breath, you had to admit that it was more than that. You felt lightheaded, but free, as if a giant weight had been lifted off your shoulders. It took you a moment as you searched the shallow ache in your chest before you finally realized what it was.

               For the first time since the First Order had gotten involved in your life, you could finally say, at least for this brief moment, that you were happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that might have arguably been the mushiest thing I ever wrote, but on some level, I really sincerely love Poe and Reader working this out like adults and talking to resolve their differences so they can be together and be a team and take out the First Order together. Secretly pining for each other and covering up their feelings with hostility can be fun for a while, but they're a team, and they have to be united if they want to take out the First Order. Plus, this way we get more smut, and that's always a plus, right? Until next week, cheers!!


	27. Chapter 27

               It was hard not being around Poe as much as you wanted to be. If it was up to you, you would have been by his side every second to make up for all the time you had been away, but that couldn’t happen. He had his own affairs to attend to with Black Squadron as they helped the Resistance fleet prepare for battle. You took that time to be equally productive with your team, running drills or just getting to know one another. Poe hadn’t been wrong when he told you that good teams were like family, and you didn’t know yours nearly half as well as you would have liked to. You had a Gran, a Neimoidian, and three humans from distant worlds, and knew little more than that.

               Poe was off visiting an ex-First Order stormtrooper in stasis in the med bay after your team’s latest flight op, so you suggested heading to the cafeteria for a chat, when Rezla countered with drinks on Grax’s ship. Apparently, the two of them were dissatisfied with the Resistance’s beverage options and had brewed something of their own.

               “What did you say was in this, again?” Tok took another sip, peering over the top of his cup at Rezla while he waited for the answer.

               “Well, there’s some barq mash from my home planet.”

               Another sip.

               “A tiny bit of Grax’s ryll spice.”

               Another hearty sip.

               “Normally I’d use Corellian Reserve, but we had to make do with Ithorian Mist.”

               A slow sip.

               “And…” with a straight face, “Bantha piss.” Tok spewed the contents of his mouth all over the nearby wall before wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Grax and Rezla exchanged a five-eyed glance before collapsing onto the table laughing.

               “What? What?” Tik is now eyeing his cup suspiciously while Dotan continued drinking on, undisturbed by the “revelation.”

               Dotan set his cup down to explain, given Grax and Rezla’s inability to do so between laughs and hoots.

               “Bantha piss. Don’t you remember it? That Rodian kid that hung around Rayda’s would make it out of that honey the Wookiees always brought with them. It’s a good thing none of you are Twi’lek, or else you’d be seeing dewbacks flying speeders across a vivid green and purple sky for days. Good stuff, bantha piss. Couldn’t get that Ithorian crap down without it.”

               Tik and Tok look back at Rezla and simultaneously punch his arm. “Not. Funny. Besides, that was our first time inside Rayda’s. We were just looking for a place to unwind after that nasty business at Kafrene.” Tok visibly shudders. “Then Hosnian got blown up and the Commander here stands up yelling something about sticking it to the First Order, and we thought, ‘Hell, it’s about time.’”

               Your curiosity is piqued, and you begin probing. “Well, we’re all here to fight the First Order for one reason or another, so what did it for you two?”

               Tik and Tok look at each other and shrug before each taking a large gulp of their drinks, passing the cups to Grax for refills.

               “Have you ever been to Lothal, Commander?”

               You’d only ever heard of Lothal in some history lesson, no more than that. You shake your head no.

               “I’m told it was once a beautiful place. Supposedly. Broad, expansive fields of grass, towering jungles, a spectacular ringed architecture in old Capital City...all gone. Today, there’s just strip-mined deserts, bare mountains, and a massive crater where Capital City used to be, before the Empire leveled it with Star Destroyer turbolasers. ‘Base Delta Zero,’ they called it. All our lives, we had that specter of the Empire’s devastation all around us. You can’t escape it anywhere on the planet, so one day, Tok and I hitched a ride with an old indifferent smuggler and ended up working in a mining rig on the Ring of Kafrene. We got good with detcord. _Really_ good with detcord.

               “Some crime boss must have been paying attention in the mines, because a gang lieutenant approached us and next thing we know, we’re flying salvage perchers, attaching custom-made limpet mines to competitors’ ships, slowly but steadily cornering the trade market for this Boss Hack, whoever he was.”

               Tik hiccups, holds up a finger indicating to wait, then hiccups again and shakes his head, pointing to Tok. Tok picks up where he left off.

               “We got really good with explosives, doing just enough damage that it was _annoying_ , your cargo spilling out into space, but never killing the crew or blowing up the ship outright. That’s just wrong, and there’s no skill to that anyway. We were explosive specialists, not crude saboteurs.

               “One day, everything went wrong. We got the target, lined up the mines perfectly, and blew the hold. Instead of random cargo drifting into space, we watched hundreds of people struggle and die in the vacuum of space. We dropped the rest of the day’s targets right then and there, and we went straight to Boss Hack’s den. The nit wouldn’t see us, so his lieutenant just kept giving us the runaround. Tik finally punched him out and we marched right into the Boss’s den. The fool was higher than a gull on death sticks in his chair on the corner, so we figured we’d get a straight answer out of him. His answer? ‘It doesn’t matter. They were runaways the First Order wanted dead anyways. Go collect the bodies, count them up, and I’ll make sure you get a handsome cut of the First Order’s bounty.’

               “We walked right out of there, rigged detcord to the place, and blew it to the seven hells. We went to Corellia looking for more respectable work, and here we are. I was pretty sure the armorer was going to faint when he saw so much detcord on board.”

               He shakes his head. He seems like he wants to say something more, but decides against it. “What about you, Dotan? What’s your story in that little taxi of yours?”

               “Me? I just came along since it was the right thing to do.”

               “Wait...the right thing? You, a Neimoidian? That’s a little unusual, isn’t it?” Grax asks.

               “Well, yes, but I suppose I am rather unusual in the first place. Unlike nearly every other Neimoidian, I was not raised in the cutthroat world of grub hell hives. Somehow, I ended up aboard a trade ship as a grub, apparently by accident during a delivery to a hive on Cato Neimoidia. The Durosan peddlers who had visited didn’t discover me until after they were already unloading their crates back home on Fondor. Instead of returning me to Cato Neimoidia to grow up as just another greedy, self-absorbed, cruel stereotypical Neimoidian, they ran an experiment and spent the long six years of my remaining larvation raising me to adulthood to see whether the Neimoidian traits were a function of education and development. Instead of greed and zero-sum mind games, they assigned me simple logistical work and distribution optimization problems as a practical portion of my education. Something about the primitive origins of Neimoidians makes us really good at efficient pathfinding, apparently, so I plotted trade flight paths and tried to solve local poverty issues as a ‘child.’

               “Eventually I matured, and it was time to strike out for myself. The logical thing to pursue, in my mind, was to work for the Five Worlds hypertaxi service, since I was effectively bred for it. One of my associates had a contact there, and it was good, respectable work. I worked as a dispatch clerk for a long time, and eventually I built up enough funds and respect within the company as not just another ‘greedy, greenie Neimie.’ I started side-seating with a partner the company assigned me, and eventually I passed the hypernavigator’s exam and got my license to operate my own cab. Not a whole lot to say, really. Can’t really operate a taxi without credits, and those were clearly in short supply after Hosnian. The Commander here stood up and said we should fight, and I agreed, so I followed her. I needed to fight more than I needed to get paid. Same for you, Grax?”

               The Gran cleared his throat and took a strong gulp of the brew before replying.

               “Damn. Didn’t think a Neimoidian of all people would put my morals to shame. Eh, my story isn’t so high and mighty as all that. Me, I ended up here because of a thug drug dealer named Salac. The guy is a drug overlord who fronts for the First Order, and someday he’s going to go down. Slowly. Screaming every second of it. Before I get too ahead of myself, though, I should probably go back to the beginning like the rest of you.

               He takes another sip and gestures with his hand before continuing.

               “Hi, I’m Grax, and I’m a chem shipper. It’s been three seconds since I made my last delivery, and two weeks since I killed a First Order tox stooge. Drugs and meds are my specialty, though I have _very_ high standards. I don’t like inspectors in my business, and I don’t like dead customers, so I only do nontoxic hallucinogens, euphorics, combat medicine, and good old-fashioned spice. Want to feel like a puddle of mud in Felucia’s swamps? I’ve got Slumm for that. Want to feel like you’re sitting on top of the world? Slick will plant you firmly atop it for fifteen minutes, guaranteed. If you’re into classics like luna-weed and Fantazi mushrooms, those are buy-one-get-one-free. If you’re looking for any toxic shit like deathsticks, Dark Dust, or rancor tranquilizer though, sorry, the door’s over there.  If you’re unfortunate enough for me to catch you selling the toxic shit, especially to children and other vulnerables, I also carry a few _other_ things for your enjoyment.”

               “Somewhere on this ship, I have a paddle with straps kitted out to accommodate any species, and disruptors to hold the shapeshifters. In that space, I have a lifetime supply of Bavo Six to make you tell me your entire life story, from the time you wetted your trousers as a kid to the idiot moment you decided to kill a kid with Dark Dust. You get one chance to turn your life around, but if you screw it up again, the next time I’ll give you some senflax to freeze you in place, and you’ll be trapped in a silent, impotent scream. As part of the ‘I kill kids with toxic drugs for a living fronting for the First Order’ package, I’ll return you for free to a public place with an equally public notice to the victims of your whereabouts. Oh, and there will be a bountiful selection of blunted melee weapons available to the crowd.

               “If you’re extra ambitious and you decide to push your luck by _exclusively_ offing kids, I just knock you out instead, pump you with Muratine, put you in a transparisteel crate, and drop it in public. The horrific hallucinations that the gathering crowd will trigger will make you wish you had died, and there is _no_ antidote. The nightmare goes on until you end it, the crowd breaks through and kills you, or the unstoppable horror eventually burns out your nervous system.

               “One of these lucky guys went by the name of Salac. He slipped away before I could give him justice, and his network caters exclusively to children, feeding the profits of broken promises and shattered families up to the First Order’s back-channel revenue collectors. He poisoned a friend’s kid with tainted deathsticks and had the nerve to send the kid a ‘Get Well’ hologreeting during his brief struggle in the hospital. This guy doesn’t get Muratine. This guy gets the pleasure of a vial of Kodashi Viper Venom with his name on it. I’ll deliver it one drop at a time until his organs all fail and he dies screaming.

               “As odd as it sounds to say this, I hope he _didn’t_ die in that big attack on Starkiller Base. I promised the kid’s mom I would make a mug out of his skull for her.”

               Tok lets out a long low whistle.

               “Damn. Remind me never to get on your bad side. What about you, Rezla? What’s your story?”

               You look over into the shadowy corner, where only the red glow of whatever herb Rezla was smoking and the gleam of his glass gave away the fact someone was there. The red glowing dot is briefly blotted out by a large cloud of smoke before Rezla answers.

               “Ever hear of Qilura?”

               Tik perks up. “Isn’t that where they grow the fancy grain for the pearl soup in the Core?”

               “Exactly that. The same stuff you’re slurping up right now. That’s not all that grows there, though. It’s a rough place. During the Clone Wars, a lot of nasty secret research happened on Qilura. Whether it was the Republic, the Confederates, or both, I don’t know, but every now and then some orphan kid explored somewhere he shouldn’t have and either died or found something fascinating. I was one of the orphan kids who didn’t die. I found an old lab working on cloaking tech, probably Confederate, given all the twisted droid parts laying around. There was a helmet and a...jacket for lack of better description that made me _almost_ invisible. It didn’t do anything for your hands and feet, but if you were sneaky, it hid enough of you that you _disappeared_.

               “I made a living as a burglar, and I was _good_ at it. I justified it all because it helped other orphan kids. We all pitched in in small groups from time to time and then went our separate ways. One day, I was going after a particularly lucrative haul, the Western Whispers pirates, and I got caught. Their boss agreed not to kill me on the condition that I worked for them as _their_ spook.

               “I was their spook for several years, doing sabotage stuff, snatch and grab, assassinations by orbital insertion, you name it. They even gave me my own cloaked fighter as a reward for a job well done. Finally, they bit off more than they could chew, an op went bad at an old Imperial shipyard on the Outer Rim, and I was suddenly the gang’s sole survivor. I didn’t have anything going, so I went to Qilura to visit my old haunts. When I got there, my old best friend’s little brother shot at me and yelled that I wasn’t going to get him too. I talked him down and got him to talk sense.

               “A year after I left, shadows could come in the night, rounding up kids, once a year, without fail. In the morning, they were nowhere to be found. No ship landing zone, no footprints, no blood, nothing. Anyone who _really_ knew me knew I had my cloak job, so naturally they suspected me. Nobody is _that_ good. No one but me. Who else could be taking the kids? I settled in on Qilura, and made a home with what was left of the kids where I was. One night, they came. Shimmering shadows in the dark. They were good, but not as good as I was. Three cuts, and they were all down, whatever they were. In the morning, I found I’d laid out my old friend and two of his pals, older, and armored as some kind of stormtrooper, dead by my hand. I knew it had to be the First Order, so I made my way across the galaxy, looking for leads, disrupting First Order ops when I found them, when who should I bump into but you, Commander? I think you know the rest of the story.”

               You see the rim of the glass raise into the air before disappearing into the shadow where Rezla sat. Dotan’s eyes follow the rim of the glass into the dark before turning to you. “What about you, Commander? I get the sense you weren’t always scum like us, what with your Resistance past. What’s your story?”

               “My story? My story isn’t important. Not anymore.”

               “That’s not true, Commander, and you know it. None of us would be here preparing to fight if it wasn’t for you. Come on, spill.”

               You take a swig as you debate what to tell them. No one could know that you were the Queen of Draboon. That person no longer existed, as far as the galaxy knew. You would tell them the truth, and nothing more.

               “I was born into a wealthy family on a fiercely independent planet. Our people had a proud history of self-reliance and loyalty to one another. As a favor to my mother, General Organa agreed to provide me with training as a fighter pilot. Unknown to me, in my absence, a prominent First Order officer attempted to court the wealth of my family. As the only child and sole heir to the fortune, it was made clear that the decision was mine, and that there would be no deal without my assent. We met during a lull in my training, but I found the man repulsive, and when I rejected his advances, he retaliated by calling down the might of the First Order on my entire home planet.”

               Tok opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

               “Don’t. It doesn’t matter anymore, there’s nothing to save. That was the last I heard of my home planet. It was destroyed, likely for its resources much like your homeworld of Lothal. I struck out on my own, learned to live life the hard way instead of being bathed in luxury, and here I am.”

               Tik and Tok share a look.

               “Okay, fine. It’s too soon, we won’t pester you about it. Instead, you could tell us about you and Commander Dameron.”

               You keep your face still and expressionless as you take a slow sip.

               “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

               The ship’s bay breaks out into a fit of laughter.

               “Okay, Commander, if that’s how you want to play it, your secret's safe with us,” Tok says, but Grax just shakes his head.

               “Oh no, that’s not going to work this time. We’re supposed to be a team, remember? We spilled our dirty secrets. How are we supposed to trust you if you won’t spill yours?”

               You’re silent for a moment as you puzzle this over. They’re all looking at you expectantly now, and even you had to admit that he had a point.

               “He’s right,” Rezla points out. “You told us to trust Commander Dameron without question, remember? Well how can we trust him when you won’t even tell us why?”

               “You’ve seen him fly,” you say quickly, glancing at them each in turn. “You’ve seen what he can do in his X-Wing. He’s one of the best pilots in the entire galaxy.”

               “A good pilot, maybe,” Dotan concedes. “But aerial ability does not necessarily translate to leadership skills. If anything, you were calling the shots during our last drill, Commander. He just sat back and let you run the show.”

               “Because I asked him to,” you say as a tingling of inspiration suddenly starts building in the back of your mind. “And that’s why you can trust him. He’s a good leader because he doesn’t claim to know everything a hundred percent of the time. He’s willing to listen to everyone, even those ranked beneath him. He’s not here for glory. He’s here to help the Resistance and he recognizes the potential that every single man and woman and species here brings to the table. He’s selfless, and…and brave, and…”

               Your voice trails off as you notice Tik nudging Tok’s side with his elbow.

               “She’s got it bad, don’t she?”

               “I do not,” you exclaim hotly, your face flashing a new shade of scarlet. They all laugh, but you just shrug your shoulders good-naturedly as you look away.

               “Just give us something,” Grax presses. “And then maybe we’ll tell you what Commander Dameron had to say when we asked him about you.”

               Scarlet? Your face was starting to turn crimson, and you were suddenly aware that your lungs might have stopped working.

               When you dare to speak again, your voice is small. “You, uh, asked him about me?”

               “Yup,” Rezla continues. “He had some, uh, interesting things to say. I’ll tell you that much.”

               You take a quick sip, your heart beating erratically in your chest. Hadn’t Poe been the one who wanted to keep things quiet? What could he have said? You had two options now. The first was to wait until you saw Poe and questioning him about it then. But that was later and your blood was practically itching in your veins. You couldn’t wait until later. You had to know _now_.

               “Okay.” You take a steadying breath. “So you’ll tell me what he said if I give you something good, is that how this is going to work?”

               “Looks like it,” Tok says as he sits back, and you let out a sigh as you glance around at their expectant faces.

               “Okay then,” you say at last. “Okay, so when I first got to the Resistance, Commander Dameron was assigned to be my instructor. He gave me homework and pop quizzes and he made me sort of prove myself to him. I was worried that, being from a wealthy family, he would have looked down on me, but he never did. He treated me just like anyone else and really made an effort to introduce me to his squadron and make me feel at home here. That’s something I still appreciate, something I don’t think I’ve ever put into words, or thanked him for.”

               There’s a few awkward snorts of amusement, and suddenly you realize that their minds had all gone to the exact same place.

               “Okay, okay,” you say as you roll your eyes. “So I’ve told you my bit, so spill. What did Commander Dameron say to you?”

               “No, we asked for something _good_ ,” Grax corrects you. “You gave us something that anyone could tell us about you. How are we supposed to trust you to be our leader if you don’t want to share the deep stuff about you?”

               “I guess you can’t,” you say with an idle roll of your shoulders, and they all turn to stare at you incredulously. “I think I’ve already done enough to prove that I can lead, but if that’s not enough for you, then I don’t think anything is going to be.”

               Dotan hesitates as he looks around at the rest of the group. “I know I can only speak for myself, Commander, but we’ve already heard that you left the last time because of him. I think we just want some, uh, _assurance_ that it won’t happen again.”

               “I didn’t leave because of him,” you say testily, although your irritation is more with the rumors that had surely spread around base than at him. Those were rumors that Poe had to put up with because of you and your reckless decisions, and you wish you had been able to be at least somewhat more transparent with everyone before you ran off.

               “Okay,” you say with a deep sigh. “Okay, here’s what happened. People knew Poe and I were, well, friendly. They thought our friendliness meant flirtation, and okay maybe there was something there, even General Organa thought so, but nothing happened between us. It was all strictly professional until the First Order targeted my ship and tried to kill me, and him by extension, due to affiliations from my home planet.”

               “We crashed. We were surrounded on all sides by Stormtroopers, but we managed to work together to take out every last one of them. We had no idea if anyone was coming for us and we, yes, we spent the night together…”

               You pause to give them time to get their overdramatic hoots out of their system.

               “…but his Squadron found us in the morning. We came back, where I learned that the base had been attacked and members of my security detailing had been targeted, specifically. I realized that Poe was next, that even though I hadn’t been intimate with him up until that point, they were going to target him regardless just based on what people said. So I left. I left because I felt guilty that I couldn’t protect the people that were there to protect me, if that makes any sense. And I left because I guess I was too weak to take it. I didn’t want anything to happen to Poe, or rather, if something happened to him, I didn’t want it to be my fault.”

               It’s suddenly quiet as they all reflect on this, and you shift uncomfortably as you finally down your drink. “Whatever, the past is the past. I’m back in the fight and I’m not going anywhere. I owe him. I’m not leaving him again.” You glance around at each of them. “So that’s all there is to say on that, really. Now, what did he say about me?”

               Grax glances down and away, and the rest do their best to avoid your gaze as well. “Wait a minute, you didn’t actually talk to him about me, did you?”

               The rest of them burst into a fit of laughter, and you groan as you realize that you had walked right into that one. Of course you should have known that Poe would have kept anything related to you and your time together quiet.

               “Well, I mean, I talked to him a little,” Rezla pipes up, and suddenly everyone stops to talk to him. “It was after we first arrived, just before our training exercise. You had been hiding in your room and we figured something was up, so I went and asked him about you. He told me that you were one of the best pilots that he ever had the pleasure of meeting, and that we could trust you without question.”

               Your mouth has suddenly gone dry again. “Wait, he said that _before_ our training exercise?”

               “That he did,” Tok confirms. “Because he came back and told us all about it. He never mentioned anything personal, just that you were a good pilot and we could trust you. That was all.”

               “Oh,” is the only thing that you can think of to say as you churn this over in your mind. Part of you wanted it to mean something, although the logical part of you fought against it. Of course Poe would say something like that. Poe would never tell them what really happened. He valued your privacy as much as he did his, and besides, he needed as many good Resistance pilots as he could get to recuperate their losses after the Battle of Starkiller Base. He wouldn’t say anything bad about you and risk them deserting.

               Although, to be fair, this was Poe. He’d never say anything bad about you regardless. Even if he was still mad at you for leaving, he would never have badmouthed you in front of the people you were supposed to lead. No, Poe Dameron was not that kind of person, and suddenly you regretted leaving all over again.

               “Look at her, she’s blushing.”

               “Am not,” you reply hotly, although even you can’t deny how red your face probably is. “Either way, I just want you to know that whatever feelings I had for Commander Dameron were in the past. You don’t have to worry about me getting distracted. The mission comes first, always. You guys are my priority, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

               “Thanks for saying it, Commander,” Tok offers. “Even if you’re saying it just to say it.”

               You smirk and shake your head, but decide there’s nothing more you could really say to that. You had gotten incredibly lucky in finding your own little crew; not only could they clearly handle themselves, but they also seemed to tacitly understand the meaning of the word _discretion._ True, they were curious about you and Poe, but they had a point. You were supposed to be leading them, and you couldn’t continue to do so if you were insistent on keeping every aspect of your life a secret from them.

               But at the same time, they weren’t ready to know who you were yet. Joran could say that you were the Queen of Draboon, but that title had no weight without a planet to rule over. Right now, you were just like them, just someone trying to do good and find their place in the galaxy.

               At least it seemed like they felt more or less at home with the Resistance. You, however, still weren’t quite sure where you belonged. Was it back on Draboon with your people? Or was it here with the Resistance, and with Poe Dameron?

               You didn’t know, but hopefully you would find out soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realized that even though I wrote a big long outline as to who Reader was leading and how they fit into the galaxy, I've never really introduced everyone else to them, so I figured I would dedicate at least one chapter to getting to know them. As you can see they definitely have very, uh, _interesting_ backstories despite a strong moral compass, which made it a lot of fun to write. 
> 
> Don't worry, Poe and Reader's interactions come back in the next chapter, and a certain revelation is made known to Reader that helps her move forward in a big way... >.> Until then, cheers!!


	28. Chapter 28

               Despite how well things had been going, Poe had already made it clear in no uncertain terms that he could not be seen sneaking into your quarters at night. At first you were disappointed, but that feeling didn’t last for long as you awoke to BB-8 slowly rolling into your door to wake you up. There was no question of where he was leading you this time, and you quickly followed him to Poe’s room, pleased to see that the door was already unlocked for you.

               A part of you almost couldn’t believe how comfortable you were with one another. He had plenty of reason to hate you, plenty of reason never to want to talk to you again, but he loved you. Poe Dameron actually loved you. He said it with his words. He said it with his eyes. He said it with the way that he kissed you. He said it with the way his hands moved over your skin at night. He said it in every way you wanted to hear it, to make sure you understood how much he cared about you.

               A part of you was concerned that he was only being so open with his feelings towards you because he was afraid of you running off again, but no, that wasn’t it. You both had held back your feelings for one another for far too long, and once you had actually had an opportunity to be open with one another, you had run away. But you were not going to leave this time. Your planet was counting on you. Poe was counting on you. You refused to disappoint them both. Not again. _Never_ again.

               You curled up in Poe’s arms with a happy sigh as you rested your head against his chest. Your legs intertwined together automatically, and you were almost surprised by how well your bodies seemed to fit together. You fit perfectly within the circle of his arms, and you honestly hoped that you would never have to spend another night without him. You couldn’t relax unless Poe’s hands were wrapped around your waist, or running down your arms, or tangled in your hair…

               Poe lets out a grunt of amusement as he teases a few strands of hair between his fingertips, and you slowly roll yourself over so that you can take a good look at him. “What? What’s so funny?”

               “Still trying to get used to the hair,” Poe admits, still teasing the strands in his fingertips. “I think I liked the blue better.”

               Your lower lip jerks out in a pout as you cast your eyes down. “Yeah, honestly, I think I do too.”

               “But this isn’t bad,” Poe quickly reassures you. “It was different at first, but the red’s growing on me.”

               “I just wish I had a choice,” you admit as you roll over to face him. “I could go back to being blue, but it puts too much of a target on my back. There’s more of a chance that people are going to recognize me, and I can’t take that risk.”

               “No, you can’t,” Poe agrees as he brushes your hair back out of your face with one hand. “I really don’t know what kind of target the First Order would put on your back if they knew you were still alive. I’d hope that enough time has passed that they wouldn’t be interested in you anymore, but I couldn’t say.”

               This conversation was too somber for your liking. “Well, I mean, a lot of time passed and you’re still interested in me, so…”

               Poe just smirks back at you. “Fair point. I guess you just have that kind of effect on people.”

               “I don’t want to have an effect on anyone,” you reply cutely. “Just on you.”

               Poe smiles as he leans forward to kiss the bridge of your nose, and you both just stay like that for a few moments, smiling at each other in a blissful, giddy state. It didn’t matter if the galaxy erupted into entropy around you. For at least this moment, you and Poe were together. You were supporting each other. And, maybe, hopefully, things could stay that way.

* * *

 

               _“Hey, hey.”_

               You feel a gentle nudging on your shoulder and you groan as you roll over onto your back.

               “Now’s not the time to be a heavy sleeper,” Poe whispers against your ear, and you had to admit that you liked the way his lips moved across the sensitive skin of your earlobe.

               “I’m not a heavy sleeper,” you reply with your eyes closed. Your voice sounds much more awake than you feel. “I just really like this bed.”

               Poe lets out an amused chuckle from somewhere above you. “Well, as much as I like seeing you in it, I need you to get up. Leia wants a word.”

               This captures your attention immediately. Your eyes shoot open and you sit straight up as you scamper out of bed and start pulling your clothes on. Poe watches you, his arms crossed over his chest as he shakes his head in amusement. “Well, it’s good to know that you can move if the situation ever calls for it.”

               You blink at him, your shirt halfway on and your pants pulled halfway up your thighs. “Wait,” you say through a mouthful of fabric. “Is this just a drill?”

               “No,” Poe admits. “No, Leia really does have something to talk with you about.”

               You pull your shirt over your head as you catch his somber expression. “Oh no, she knows about us, doesn’t she?”

               “She probably does,” Poe admits. “But I don’t think that’s what this is about.”

               You frown at him, trying to put the pieces of his expression together. “Is this meeting for both of us? Or just me?”

               “Just you,” Poe replies. “I’ve got some other stuff to take care of.”

               His tone is guarded, and you can’t help but watch him uneasily.

               “But you know what this is about.”

               Poe looks on for a moment before he dips his head forward in a slight nod.

               “You think I’m not going to have a good reaction to whatever she wants to tell me.”

               Poe just shakes his head, and you can’t help but let out a frustrated sigh.

               “I’m not going to run away again, Poe. I’m not. You won’t lose me again, I promise.”

               “I trust you,” Poe says, but it’s clear he’s saying it just to say it. He’s really not sure that you’re not going to run away again, and that’s concerning. What did Leia have to tell you that was so terrible that you would want to turn tail and run away again?

               “I love you, Poe,” you say as you spread your hands by your sides. “You know, I wanted to say at first that if you wanted to make sure that I stayed, just drain the fuel out of my X-Wing, but I know you won’t do that and I wouldn’t want you to. I want to make sure that _you_ know that I’m staying because I _want_ to stay, not because I can’t run away again.”

               A smile tugs at the corner of Poe’s lips. “Good.” He walks forward and pulls you into a quick hug, and you bury your forehead into his shoulder as you hold him tightly to you. “And you’re welcome to come right back here after, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

               “I’ll come back,” you say as you pull away from him. “But I can’t promise it’ll be for you. It might just be for the bed.”

               Poe just laughs as he reaches down to kiss you, and you can’t help but smile up at him for another moment. He really was attractive. And kind. And sweet. And generous. And sort of cocky, but you liked that. He was excessively overconfident to border on amusing, but that was who he was. Poe Dameron, the eternal optimist, with the skills and the competence to back up _most_ of his talk. For a moment you weren’t sure if you wanted to like him or _be_ just like him, but maybe it was a healthy combination of both.

               Poe can see the way that you’re looking at him now, and he gnaws on his lower lip as he brushes your hair back behind your shoulders. “Okay, get going. I’ll give you a two minute head start so it’s not completely obvious we just spent the night together.”

               “We’re both happier than we really should be,” you say as you punch his shoulder lightly. “I think that’s reason enough for people to suspect.”

               Poe cracks a grin, but you turn and head for the door before he can say anything more. You didn’t want to leave him, and it was painfully obvious that he didn’t want to leave you. You would spend all day, maybe all week, just locked away in his room catching up with each other if you could, but unfortunately, the galaxy would not give you that luxury.

               Luckily, it seemed that no one saw you leaving Poe’s room, which was fortunate, all things considered. You could always say that you were in there just to talk, but somehow you doubted most people would believe you. As you walked down the halls and past some unfamiliar faces, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe some people actually _would_ believe you. These people didn’t know you. They didn’t know the complicated history that you had with Poe. Maybe most of them wouldn’t care.

               But there was always a risk that someone _could_. There was always a risk that someone would put two and two together and realize that Poe Dameron’s new girlfriend looked an awful lot like the former princess of Draboon. If that word got back to the First Order, you would be in the same sort of trouble that had prompted you to leave in the first place, and you couldn’t take that risk, not just for your sake, but for Poe’s as well. Things between you were finally _good_ , and you didn’t want to risk that by opening your mouth and blabbing too soon.

               “Hey.” You hear a voice from behind you and you quickly stop and glance over your shoulder to see Jess making her way towards you. “Heading to the hangar for some more drills? I saw you in the skies with your team yesterday. Your coordination’s looking pretty solid.”

               “No, they earned a rest today,” you say as you start walking again. “I was just heading to the command center. I heard Leia wants a word.”

               “Well, you don’t look too nervous,” Jess notices as she looks you up and down. “Then again, you look a lot less…” She hesitates for a moment, as if trying to decide on the right word. “Miserable.”

               “Not miserable,” you say with an idle shrug of your shoulders. You were trying to play it cool, to not give Jess a reason to suspect anything, but you couldn’t deny the obvious when Jess had been one to witness your breakdown in that stuffy little room overlooking the hangar. “It was just hard being back here again. Too many bad memories. I’m over it now.”

               “Are you?” Jess asks, and you nod your head. “I heard the drill you ran with Poe ran pretty well, aside from a failed engine on one of your pilots. I heard you were actually the one to pull him through the death dive.”

               “Yeah.” You shrug your shoulders, trying to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. “I mean, he’s a good pilot. He knew what to do.”

               Suddenly, Jess puts a hand on your arm and pulls you into a nearby alcove. “What’s going on?”

               You blink and shake your head, suddenly unsure of yourself. “What do you mean?”

               “Well, the last time I saw you, you were bawling your snot all over my uniform,” Jess points out. “And now you’re-” She gestures at you with one hand. “I don’t even know how you’re acting right now.”

               “I’m not trying to act like anything,” you confess, letting a chink show through your armor. “I swear, Jess, I’m not trying to be stand-offish or rude or anything like that, I promise. I guess I’m just really worried about what Leia has to say to me and I’m trying to be cool.”

               Jess shakes her head. “Leia’s not going to turn you away, if that’s what you’re worried about. We _need_ pilots, now more than ever. You’ve got nothing to worry about there.”

               “No, I know.” You shrug awkwardly as Jess raises her eyebrows, waiting for you to continue. “But that’s it, I promise. Besides, you know, also worrying about the impending First Order attack and the future of my planet. That does tend to eat up a lot of my thoughts.”

               “And you’re not worried about Poe at all?” Jess asks suspiciously, but you just shake your head. “So if Poe had, say, a new girlfriend, you wouldn’t be even a little bit jealous?”

               “Oh, I would be jealous,” you admit. “But I made my mistakes. That’s on me. We’re colleagues, and we’ll work together, but like you said, I don’t know if things between us will ever go back to how they once were. Too much has changed since then.”

               Jess stares at you suspiciously, and you stare right back. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

               You just force a smile in her direction as you shake your head. You did want to open up to Jess, you did. After all, she had been able to keep your secret before, and you knew that she was trustworthy. Even still, Poe wanted to keep the people who knew short, and maybe Poe even wanted to be the one to tell her first. If that was the case, it wasn’t your place to say until you had talked it over with him first.

               “If you think there’s something going on between me and Poe, you could always ask him,” you point out as you pull away from her. “I got to go, I can’t keep Leia waiting. I’ll see you soon, though, Jess, I promise.”

               “You better,” Jess calls after you, but you don’t turn around as you quickly head towards the command center. Your interruption with Jess actually made you feel more nervous than you had been when you first left Poe’s door. You didn’t think this could be about Poe, but then again, what else could this have been about? Was something going on with someone on your team? Maybe they thought that you were a bad Captain, and instead of approaching you about it directly, they went behind your back to snitch to Leia?

               Your heart is beating wildly in your chest now as you step into her small office. Leia looks you up and down and forces a smile as she gestures for you to have a seat.

               “I was told you wanted to see me,” you say, trying not to let your unease show through your expression.

               Leia nods. “Who told you?”

               “Poe did.” You assume this had been done intentionally, but you keep your face as composed as you possibly can.

               “And things are…?”

               “Things are good,” you confirm. “Commander Dameron and I have a professional working relationship. There will be no arguments or miscommunications anymore.”

               “Good.” Leia’s voice is clipped as she fiddles with something on a datapad that she’s holding in her hands. She’s silent for a while, and you shuffle awkwardly in front of her. Had this simply been a test to see if Poe had actually told you? Was that all this was?

               Leia suddenly puts down her datapad and sighs loudly as her eyes roll to the ceiling, as if she could sense your growing impatience. “I didn’t want to show you. I don’t think it matters now, but Poe insisted. He says you have a right to see it, and he’s right, you do, I just don’t know if I can bring myself to show it to you.”

               You frown as you shake your head slowly. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

               Leia sighs as she gets to her feet, moving to sit on the desk in front of you. “If I show this to you, I need to know that you’ll be okay. The First Order will be on our doorstep any minute, and I can’t have you breaking down now.”

               _Breaking down?_ What was she planning on showing you that was so terrible?

“If Poe thinks you shouldn’t keep something from me, then you shouldn’t.”

               It’s all you can think of to say. You can’t tell her that you promised Poe that you wouldn’t run away. You couldn’t even tell her that you wouldn’t break down, especially when that had already happened far too recently for your liking. You had absolutely no idea what she was about to show you, except for the fact that it was probably going to destroy you emotionally from the inside out.

               Leia just lets out another sigh. “Before she passed, your mother sent out a transmission while she was under attack.” Your eyes widen, and for a moment you were almost completely sure that your heart had completely stopped beating altogether. “I still have that transmission. You didn’t give me a chance to show it to you before you took off, but I saved a copy to my personal files, just in case. I’ve been debating whether or not I should show it to you, but Poe reminded me that it’s not my choice to make.”

               You swallow a lump in your throat. “So Poe saw it then?”

               Leia nods her head, and you can’t help but let your shoulders slump as you think back to your conversation this morning. Poe thought that reliving this all over again might make you run away. You weren’t quite sure if seeing her final moments would help provide you with some much needed closure or make things even worse, but at the very least, they would provide Poe with some tangible scrap of evidence that you wouldn’t run out on him again. If anything positive could come from viewing such a thing, at least you would have that much.

               “I want to see it,” you manage at length. “I want to see it.”

               “It’s not very long,” Leia says quietly as she goes about pulling up the transmission. You just sit there with your eyes cast down towards the floor. You’re gripping the seat beneath you so tightly that your knuckles are white, but you don’t stop. For a moment you wished that Poe could be with you to help you through this, but no, this was something that you had to do yourself.

               Leia quietly bows out of the room without another word, and another moment of silence lapses before a holo of your mother flickers into view. She’s not made up like she usually is. Her long hair is down around her shoulders, and she looked to be wearing just a simple nightdress.

               For a moment, you almost didn’t even recognize her.

               “Leia,” she says, and when she speaks, her voice is urgent. “I know we have had our differences, but I need to speak with my daughter. It’s a matter of some urgency, and-” The sounds of blaster fire erupt in the background, and she casts an uneasy glance over her shoulder. “No, it seems I don’t have much time. Please, show this to her.”

               She looks like she doesn’t know what she wants to say for a moment before she steadies herself. “By the time you get this message, I will be gone. Your planet will be gone. Your _home_ will be gone. I am sorry I failed you. I should have been stronger. I have heard rumors for the past several months that the First Order was targeting our planet, and so when the Resistance arrived on our doorstep, I thought that perhaps we could come to an agreement; financial backing in exchange for aid when the need arose.”

               “But Princess Leia has broken that vow. She insists they cannot get involved. I have already reached out to the Senate and despite her urging, they have dismissed us both, and-”

               There’s the sound of more blaster fire and what sounds like men yelling in the background. “I don’t have much time. I need you to leave the Resistance. I no longer believe that it is safe for you there. These are dangerous times and I cannot trust that she will keep you safe. I need you to leave, to shed your name and your title and never look back.”

               “I am sorry to ask this of you. I can only think now of the times when you asked me to train you to fight, to fly, to have a soldier’s education. I always thought that we would be able to buy our way out of any situation, but I see now that I was wrong, and I lament not indulging you when you were younger. You are, unfortunately, going to have to make your own way in this galaxy from now on. Trust no one. Rely on no one.”

               There’s a pounding at the doors now, but she ignores it. “I am so proud of you, my daughter. Truly. I never took as much time as I should to tell you how proud of you I am, or how much I love you. I wish it didn’t come to this for these words to be said, but-”

               The doors fly open. You can see the shots of blaster fire in the background and you involuntarily let out a screech as your mother’s eyes widen. Her lips part slightly. Her arm goes up to clutch a spot on her chest just under the view of the holo.

               “-survive.”

               The transmission cuts out.

               You sit there for a moment with your hand pressed over your mouth. Hot tears are streaming down your cheeks and you let a suppressed sob fall into your hand. Aware that there are other people probably close by, you quickly put another hand over your mouth as you try to suppress the sound of your sobbing. You couldn’t cry, not here. You were too exposed. You may have been in a closed office, but you still felt like eyes were watching you.

               You didn’t want to cry here, and yet, as her words floated circled themselves around and around in your head, you couldn’t help but catch on one phrase in particular.

_I need you to leave, to shed your name and your title and never look back._

               That was what you had done. That was _exactly_ what you had done. You didn’t believe in the Force or some mysterious entity governing your life, not really, but perhaps there was more to it than you thought. You knew that she had passed away even before Snap had told you. What if that sense of urgency to leave wasn’t from you? What if it was her final wish, reaching out to you in the hopes that you could hear it?

               You had heard it, apparently. You let out a shuddering breath as the tears slow. For some reason, you feel surprisingly calm. Suddenly, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. The crippling guilt that you felt towards leaving was suddenly alleviated, because it didn’t matter. Even if you had stayed that night, Leia probably would have shown you that hologram in the morning, and then you would have tried to find some way to leave then. You would have honored your mother’s final request, and you would have done as she instructed.

_I need you to leave, to shed your name and your title and never look back._

               But now you were looking back. You were back with the Resistance now, working on reclaiming your name and your title. Your mother probably thought that Draboon was gone, and you could see how she would think that what with the First Order’s sudden attack, but what would she want you to do now?

               It didn’t matter. The truth was, it didn’t matter what your mother would do. Her last shuddered breath had been asking you to survive. In the end, you weren’t just her protégé that she was grooming to follow in her footsteps. In the end, you were her daughter, and she would rather see you homeless but alive instead of being swept up in this war and risking certain death or incarceration.

               You let out a slow breath. Your mother loved you. She was proud of you. In the end, she _had_ been glad that you had been on the Resistance base instead of on Draboon. She knew that the First Order had been targeting your planet, and hell, maybe she sent you there for your own protection. Even if she had entertained the thought of bringing you home out loud, she knew you were far too rebellious to actually comply with an order. She knew you. She knew how you thought, how you behaved, because in the end, she was still your mother.

               You feel surprisingly calm as you slowly got to your feet. You knew Leia would be outside, anxiously waiting to see if you were as broken as she thought. You quickly wipe the tears from your face and release another slow breath, trying to regulate your breathing. You had done the right thing. You had done exactly what your mother wanted. She was dead, but you wouldn’t let her sacrifice be in vain.

               The door slides open and Leia is there, watching you uncertainly as you step out to face her. Your face is red and you know you look as though you’ve just been crying, but you still keep your head held high.

               “Are you okay?” she asks gently. It’s a soft tone, a motherly tone, one that you could suddenly recognize all too well.

               “I am,” you confirm. Your voice is surprisingly stable, and you can’t help but again let a wave of calmness wash over you. You weren’t quite sure where it was coming from, but you welcomed it all the same. “Thank you for showing it to me. I needed to see it.” 

               Leia frowns as she looks you up and down. This was clearly not the reaction that she had been expecting, but then again, you weren’t quite sure what reaction she _was_ expecting. Did she expect you to break down and cry? Did she expect you to run away again?

               “Are you sure you’re all right?” Leia asks, and you just nod your head forward.

               “I’m good,” you reply firmly. “You don’t have to worry about me breaking down or losing my focus. I know how imperative it is that I focus on the threat the First Order poses.”

               “It’s not a matter of losing focus,” Leia says as she shakes her head. “You can still be in pain and push through it. We all have been there before, especially you. What’s not good is to deny it simply because it’s what you think people want to hear.”

               “That’s not what I think,” you say as you shake your head. “I heard what she said. And then I watched her die. Maybe I should be more upset, maybe that’ll come later, but I feel okay. I mean that. Right now, I just want to focus on wiping out the First Order so no one else has to lose their family.”

               Leia just nods her head forward a few times before she steps aside, letting you pass. You exit the command center and head back through the hallways calmly. Your head felt surprisingly empty, your thoughts hiding somewhere just out of reach. You didn’t feel like you were going to cry. You didn’t feel like you were going to break down.

               You thought about heading down to the mess hall to get some food, but you weren’t hungry, nor did you really want to be around anyone just now. You wanted to be alone with the thoughts that weren’t coming. You wanted time to think, although you weren’t quite sure there was anything for you to think about. What was done was done. You couldn’t bring your mother back to life. Destroying the First Order wouldn’t give you any closure, but at least it might bring some justice for all of the lives they had destroyed.

               Poe’s room is unlocked, and you quickly duck inside his room before anyone notices. Again, you’re struck by the sudden thought that you’re alone in his room, but you don’t snoop around. You didn’t think Poe would fault you for it if he found out, but you just weren’t in a mood to pry. Instead, you just sat down in a chair as you pulled your knees to your chest and sat.

               You almost expected that you would start crying here, now that you were alone, but the tears didn’t come. You couldn’t even really say that you were upset. You just didn’t feel sad, and you weren’t sure why. Wouldn’t most people grieve after they watched their parent being slaughtered in front of their own eyes?

               But you couldn’t feel sad. Your mother’s message went beyond words. It had provided you with the validation that you needed to hear. She had told you to run from the Resistance, and you had. You had honored her final wish without even knowing you were doing so. Suddenly, it wasn’t even a question of whether or not you had done the right thing, you knew you had. Even Poe no longer held it against you. The guilt had finally been lifted from your shoulders, and the relief that you felt overshadowed any other emotions.

               You don’t know how long you’re sitting there for before the door finally opens and Poe comes through. He looks over at you immediately, as if he had come back with the sole purpose of trying to find you. “Hey, you okay?”

               “Yeah.” You look up at him, and you can only imagine that your eyes are clear now. He can’t tell that you cried at least a little bit. Would he want you to be upset? Was he expecting you to run out on him again?

               “She wanted me to see if you were okay,” Poe says as he looks you over, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion.

               “Why would she ask you?” You shake your head as if you don’t understand. “I didn’t tell her anything about us. She has no reason to think we’re back together.”

               “But I’m sure she can suspect,” Poe says dismissively, as if that was far from the most pressing concern at the moment. “Are you okay?”

               “Yeah,” you reply, but you can’t bring yourself to say much more than that. Silence descends between you as you both look each other over.

               “It’s okay if you’re not okay.”

               “I know.”

               You both continue to stare at each other, until Poe finally sinks his face into his hand. “Remember what I said before? About miscommunication? I need you to be open with me.”

               “And I am,” you tell him gently. “I think that’s the problem.”

               Poe opens his mouth and closes it, as if he’s not sure what to say. “Did you see…?”

               “Yes.” He doesn’t need to say it. “Yeah, I saw it.”

               “And?” Poe presses as he comes to sit beside you. “ _Are_ you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

               “That’s funny,” you admit. “Because I keep telling myself that I _should_ think about it, but there’s nothing to think about. There’s nothing to talk about. It happened. It’s done.”

               “Things in the past can still affect how we feel,” Poe points out. “Even if there’s no way to go about changing them.”

               “I couldn’t have saved her,” you say as you shake your head. “There’s nothing I could have done, but I honored her last wish. I left. I’m sure you weren’t happy to hear her say it, but at least now I know. Even if I hadn’t run off that night, I would have when Leia showed me that video. So there’s some peace in knowing that I did the last thing she wanted me to do.”

               You shake your head. “Maybe that was why I left. Maybe there were a lot of reasons, but my instincts told me to leave, and maybe that was because I could feel her reaching out to me. I hated that I left, I hated leaving you, but maybe if I stayed I would have resented you for being here, for hiding out here, when I knew she wanted me to leave.” You can’t help but give him a soft smile that he quickly returns. “Maybe if I hadn’t left, we wouldn’t have gotten to where we are now. Maybe all that pain was worth it.”

               “There’s no way to know,” Poe reminds you, but you just let your shoulders rise and drop.

               “She would have been proud of me, to see me survive? To see me keep fighting? I was so worried that she’d be embarrassed at me for running away, or for doing some of the things I had to do to survive. I kept wondering what she would be thinking if she was alive to see me doing some of the things I did, but now I know. She would have been proud of me regardless. She wanted me to survive and I did. I did exactly what she wanted.”

               Poe’s silent as he seems to think this over before he finally nods his head. “I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be. You’re strong and you’re smart and you have a strong sense of right and wrong. Maybe she didn’t exactly approve of you flying at first, but if she saw how skilled you’ve become, she would be proud of you. I’m proud of you, and you know how hard it is to impress me.”

               You let out a snort of laughter as a smirk pulls at the corners of your lips. Poe takes one of your hands in his as he turns it over in his calloused palms. “You’re going to be okay,” he continues. “We’re going to be okay. I know it’s scary now, but we’ll make it through this. With all of us working together, the First Order doesn’t stand a chance.”

               You know what he’s trying to do, and you appreciate it, but you can’t help but be distracted by a sudden thought that comes unbidden to your mind. You want to push it away, but the truth was that these were dangerous times, and as much as you didn’t want to admit that there was a possibility of losing anyone else, the truth was that Poe was just as susceptible to the dangers the First Order posed as anyone.

               “Poe,” you begin softly, almost daring yourself to say the words. “Will you do something for me?”

               “Anything within reason,” Poe says with a light smirk, and you force yourself to return it. That was Poe, trying to keep things light. Trying to keep things from getting too much for you to handle. The light to the darkness that threatened to suffocate the Resistance and everything it stood for.

               “When the fighting starts and we’re about to go off to fight, we’ll probably get separated,” you admit. “And if we do, and if we’re not sure if we’re ever going to see each other again, please just promise me you’ll do one thing?”

               “What’s that?”

               “Survive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that this is something that our princess has needed to hear for a while, that she did nothing wrong by leaving. Everyone's already pretty much told her that, but I think that this was the one person she really needed to hear it from the most, and it's almost like everything has come full circle. But in a way, it may help the Reader feel free to become who she feels she needs to be.


	29. Chapter 29

               “Can we go yet?”

               “No.”

               “Can we go yet?”

               “No.”

               “Can we go yet?”

               _“No. Tik. No.”_

               You didn’t mean to yell at him, you really didn’t. Fortunately you were just communicating on internal comms and no one but your team had to hear you lose your cool. You couldn’t lose your cool, not now. You had been training for this moment since you had first left the Resistance base, and you couldn’t let yourself become frazzled now.

               It was Joran’s fault, that’s what it was. Reminding you that you were going to be killed if you went up there. Reminding you that you still had a role to play in Draboon’s future. And that was true, and you knew that, but nothing he said was going to change your mind. You were not going to evacuate with him. If you left the planet, and for all intents and purposes, you already had, you were going to do it with Poe Dameron.

               Unfortunately for you, that was only half-true.

               “Don’t worry, Iris Leader,” Tok says reassuringly. “Black Leader is going to be just fine. He seems like one heck of a pilot.”

               “He is,” you mutter through the comms, unable to keep the anxiety out of your voice. “But he’s facing down the First Order fleet. Alone.”

               _He’s not alone,_ Champ beeps from just behind you. _He’s got BB-8 with him._

“That he does,” you admit. “I just wish it didn’t have to be him.”

               “No one else is going to keep the First Order ships stalled long enough.” Grax points out.

               “Leia’s ships are almost finished evacuating.” Dotan reminds the group. “As soon as we get the signal, we go. He won’t be alone for long.”

               “No, as soon as we get the signal, I go, and the rest of you follow my lead.” You try to push the rest of your anxiety out of your voice. “This is it, Iris Squadron. This is the big day that we’ve all been waiting for. Our mission here is simple. Take out the defense cannons on the First Order’s Siege Dreadnought. Stall them long enough for the rest of Leia’s forces to evacuate, then jump to hyperspace and regroup with the fleet. No injuries. No death. Not on my team, anyway.”

               “Not if we can count on it,” Tik replies.

               You stifle your heavy sigh through the mic. If you were going to lose one person on your team today, it was probably going to  be Tik.

               In the distance, you can just barely see the explosions start, and you have to physically hold your hands together to keep yourself from engaging. Poe was in danger, and right now, you were sitting back and just _watching_. What if he died because you listened to Leia’s orders and refused to do anything?

               Or what if he died because you intervened ahead of schedule and made things worse?

               Seconds become minutes that seem to stretch on for hours. Finally, you hear a familiar voice in your ear that makes you let out an involuntary sigh of relief. “Okay, Iris Leader, whenever you’re ready. We don’t want to have _all_ the fun up here.”

               “Copy that, Black Leader. It looks like the last of the transport ships are clearing the planet and we are on our way to provide backup.”

               You quickly switch back to internal comms. “Okay, team, on my mark, ready?”

               You quickly accelerate your fighter to attack speed and start heading towards the Dreadnought as green bolts start to fire all around you. _This is just a simulation_ , you try to tell yourself. _Just another one of Poe’s easy tests. You’ve done this before, you can do it again._

               But suddenly you’re not quite sure what you’re doing. You’re avoiding the bright bolts of green, sure, but it’s suddenly just erupted into chaos around you. X-Wings and A-Wings are flying all around you, but you’re suddenly not even sure where your team is. It looks like you had completely broken formation. All of the practice, all of the drills, it was all a waste.

 _Don’t freeze up_ , Champ beeps excitedly in your ear, but you can feel your hands go slack on the controls. You couldn’t do this. You had been a princess of Draboon. You had been raised in the royal court. You had been trained for ceremonies and diplomatic discussion. What were you _doing_ here?

               “How’s it going, Princess?”

               A voice. _Poe’s voice._ You quickly shake your head to clear it and realize Poe is talking to you and you alone.

               _I’m scared, Poe._

“I’m fine, Black Leader.”

               _I can’t do this._

“Let’s take out these First Order dogs.”

               _I think this was a mistake._

“You with me?”

               “Yeah,” Poe replies after a brief burst of static. “Yeah, I took out most of the surface cannons but there’s one left. I’m trying to take a shot, but I’m getting swarmed here. I need cover.”

               _Help._ Poe was asking you for _help._

               “Copy that, Black Leader.”

               Without thinking, you suddenly bank left, _hard_ , spinning out behind the TIE that was on your tail. He doesn’t expect the move, and you quickly pull up and around him, blasting him right out of the sky. You watch as the wings on either side of his capsule erupt into bright balls of flame before you duck underneath it and dodge the rest of the wreckage.

               _There was a person in there. You just killed someone._

Your hands shake on the controls. You force yourself to swallow the spit in your throat. You suddenly feel extremely hyper aware of every sensation around you. People are chattering away in the comms in your ear, but for some reason, you feel like you can’t hear any of it.

               Only one voice rises out of the confusion.

               “Stay on target.” You’re not sure if he’s talking to you, but you force yourself into position. You see Black One soar by, and you quickly loop up and around, just barely dodging a green bolt of your own. You fire repeatedly, but getting a direct hit seems harder and harder as the TIE Fighter in front of you dances in and out of your scope.

               Finally, you get a lock and take the shot. The TIE Fighter bursts into flames, and you quickly veer around to avoid it.

               “There we go, that’s my girl.”

               It doesn’t calm you as much as it usually does, but it helps you stay on focus, at least a little.

               “Don’t thank me yet, Poe. There are still two more on your tail. I’ll try to line up and get another shot.”

               “Don’t worry, I-”

               Poe’s comm bursts into static. In your field of vision, you can see an explosion and a shower of sparks as you see _Black One_ ’s been hit. Your heart jumps into your throat and for a moment your entire body freezes. You can’t do anything. You can’t move. You can’t think-

               But Poe’s X-Wing soars on, and it looks like he hasn’t taken a direct hit. No, it looks like the bolt had grazed his underbelly, which meant that while he wasn’t a sitting duck _yet_ , he was still flying with a severe disadvantage.

               You quickly fly over to aid him, only for Champ to bring your attention to something else. Poe hadn’t been able to eliminate the Dreadnought’s two main cannons, and they were taking aim on D’Qar below. Beneath you, the Resistance base was being totally obliterated. The place where you had first fallen in love with Poe, the place where Garrett and the rest of your team had fallen, it was gone now. It was erased from the galaxy in the time it took to snap your fingers.

               It didn’t feel real. None of this felt real. Vaguely you’re aware that Champ has taken control of your X-Wing in order to avoid the shower of green bolts that were flying your way, but a part of you almost couldn’t bring yourself to care. X-Wings and TIE Fighters alike were exploding into bursts of flame and dust all around you. So much senseless destruction. Was your team dead? Was Poe dead? You honestly weren’t sure anymore. It just didn’t feel _real_.

               “It’s done.” You can hear Leia’s voice in your ear now. “The base is gone and the last transport is away. We’ve sustained heavy losses. It’s time to regroup and join up with the rest of the fleet.”

               “Not yet, General.” Poe’s voice. He was still alive. This stirs something within you, enough to put your hands on the controls. “This Dreadnought’s exposed. With a little more firepower, we can take it out of the equation for good.”

               “It’s too risky,” Leia admonishes. “Poe, join up with the rest of the fleet now.”

               “You heard her, Iris Leader.” Tok. Tok was still alive. You breathe out another sigh of relief. “Let’s regroup back with the fleet.”

               “Not just yet, Tok,” you say quickly. “What are your orders, Black Leader? Are we going to run or are we going to stay and fight?”

               You hadn’t meant for it to sound like a challenge, but you’re suddenly aware that that’s how it must have sounded. And the whole channel was listening.

               There’s a moment of pause as everyone listens with bated breath before Poe orders his next command.

               “We stay and fight. Let’s take out that Dreadnought.”

               You put your hands back on the controls as you take a deep breath in and let it out. “Okay, Champ, let’s see what Iris One can really do, okay? Let’s make Poe proud of me.”

               _Proud-_ er _,_ Champ corrects you, and you can’t help but smirk.

            A female voice comes over the Corps channel. “Just like we rehearsed. All fighters, protect the bombers. Get them to the siege reactor vent before they can recharge the main guns. Bombers, begin your run. Stay tight. It’s not every day we get a shot at a Dreadnought, and we’re not letting this one get away to wreck another world.”

            Over the Commanders’ channel, you heard Leia’s firm voice. “All craft, return. There’s no time.” The channel suddenly goes dead and Poe’s voice replaces Leia’s.

            “You saw what two shots did to the base. We can’t let this thing anywhere near inhabited worlds. We stick to the plan. Tallie, start the approach.”

            As the bombers close in on the bow of the massive Dreadnought, TIE fighters from the other battlecruisers arrive to join the fight, and you’re again plunged into a flurry of fighters and bolts criss-crossing all around.

            The female voice you now recognized as Tallie comes on the channel. “One minute to target. Arm bombs and prepare for drop sequence.”

            You watch with horror as a lone TIE fighter shakes the X-Wing pursuing it and attacks the lead bomber, sending it plunging, flaming, to the planet below. The other bombers close formation to better provide each other covering fire, and you track the TIE fighter as it loops away for another unopposed run.

            “Oh no, you don’t,” you growl under your breath. You check your scope to see who’s still with you and find Dotan on your left wing. “Iris Five, cover me. I’m taking this one out.”

            “Roger, Iris Leader.”

            You slowed your ship to pull alongside the bomber you suspected the TIE fighter would target, and silently count down from ten, hoping the TIE fighter wouldn’t spot you lurking behind the bomber. On zero, you pulled up and over the bomber to find the TIE fighter right where you expected, and quickly sent a burst of cannon fire at the TIE. You’re momentarily pleased to see the TIE burst into flame, its shattered wings scattering metal shards all around it. The feeling quickly turned to dread.

            The flaming TIE fighter seems to briefly regain some semblance of control, and veers back onto a crash course with the bomber. You fire another round of shots at the flaming ball, and it explodes into multiple fragments, but you were too late. A large portion of the wreckage connects squarely with the bomber, which begins to list. For a brief moment, it appears that the bomber was simply damaged, but you see the cockpit fill with flame and instinctively pull away from the bomber. Once you’re a safe distance away, you turn back to be met with the terrifying sight of the bombers exploding one by one, destroyed by each others’ shrapnel in their tight-knit formation.

            That was it then. All hope of destroying the Dreadnought had been extinguished. None of your fighters had the firepower to penetrate the armor on the vent, not even if you concentrated your fire.

            You hear your own voice cut through the shocked silence on the comms. “All fighters, it’s done. Return to the _Raddus_ before they take us out too.”

            Just as you’re pulling your X-Wing around to return to the _Raddus_ , Poe’s voice cuts in.

            “Wait! There’s one more bomber on my roster. They’re not responding to comms. Does anyone have eyes on it? Blue Leader? Iris Leader? Anyone?”

            Tallie replies, “I see it. Bomber seven. Damn. Their bay doors are closed. I’ll see if I can get closer. All fighters, _protect that bomber_. It’s our last shot.”

            After a brief pause, “I see the cockpit. The pilots are dead. It’s just - wait. The bay doors are opening. There’s someone alive inside.”

            Poe replies, “Paige. It has to be. Paige, if you can hear me, you’re over the target. It’s now or never.”

            Immediately after, you hear Tok’s frantic voice cut in. “Now, now! Drop them now! The siege cannons are charging!”

            Desperate, you pull your X-Wing around in a tight arc and accelerate to the edge of the Dreadnought. You had a proton torpedo on board, and even if it didn’t penetrate the cannon’s armor, you might be able to deflect the shot just enough to buy Leia time to escape. As you’re pressed back into your seat, you manage to get out a message to Tok. “Iris Three, whatever you’ve got, blast the port cannon. I’m en route to hit starboard.”

            Just as you clear the edge of the Dreadnought and whip around it to the underside, you hear Tok grunt back, “Roger.”

            Ahead, you see the guide ports of the cannon glowing bright red, and getting brighter. You had no time to line up the perfect shot, but you were on a crash course with the barrel of the cannon and considered that good enough.

            Three seconds. You released the torpedo.

            Two seconds. The torpedo’s orange trace streaked toward the nose of the cannon.

            One second. A red glow appeared around the mouth of the cannon. You were too late. The torpedo wouldn’t connect in time. Tok’s torpedo connects with the port cannon in a bright white flash.

            Zero. The cannon is replaced with a huge blossom of flame just as your torpedo connects and a chorus of cheers blasts through your comms. As you swerve to avoid the columns of flame erupting in quick succession from the ship, you see the two shots go wide, missing the _Raddus_ and plunging into the depths of space.

            Tallie’s voice comes back. “Paige did it. The Dreadnought is going down, but the explosion took out the bomber.”

            You pull around for one last glimpse of the exploding Dreadnought, and see that the trailing battlecruisers have now begun their attack to avenge the fallen Dreadnought. As the center of the Dreadnought explodes, cracking the massive ship in half, a frantic voice cuts back in on the Commanders’ channel.

            “Testing, testing, hello? Can _anyone_ hear me? This is Lieutenant Connix, _Raddus_ navigator. Anyone? Damn. They’re still jamming us.”

            “Iris Leader here,” you reply once you manage to find your voice. “I hear you, _Raddus_.”

            “Finally. All fighters, get back here. _Now_. The battlecruisers are closing, and we don’t have time.”

            You push your fighter up to maximum speed, closing distance on the _Raddus_ , taking care to watch the other fighters around you. The hangar portals were only so large, and you would all have to make it in quickly. A short distance from the cruiser, the wing controller’s terse voice came onto the channel. “Cutting it close, starfighters. You’ve got fifteen seconds before the _Raddus_ jumps. Ten. Nine.” As he counts down, you charge toward an open hangar port and give control to Champ as you feel your straps pull tighter to your chest. You clear the portal and land _hard_ just as the controller is counting _three_ , and look around for the unmistakable black and orange of Poe’s fighter, but don’t see it. On _one_ , you see it just barely able to sneak into the hangar as the stars outside are replaced with the blue and white streaks of hyperspace.

            You were alive. Poe was alive. Surely some of the others had made it out as well. You had survived your first real battle and destroyed a Dreadnought. If anything, this should be considered a win for the Resistance.

            Then why couldn’t you help feeling like you had lost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I know I've been missing the past few weeks: I had a severe injury that involved several bruised (although thankfully not broken) ribs and I sprained my wrist which made writing difficult, especially since this was days after my decision to rewrite the entire back half of this story because of how much I loathe what they did to Poe in TLJ. So we are deviating from TLJ (although not necessarily canon) and striking out a new course, one that I hope you'll enjoy regardless!!


	30. Chapter 30

               You sat with your hands in your lap, trying to take stock of yourself. It wasn’t real. It didn’t feel real. You thought that you could handle it. You thought that when the time came, you were ready to face the First Order head on.

               But you weren’t.

               You were just a scared little girl.

               To tell the truth, that really was all you were. You froze up there. Champ had been able to save your life, but maybe if you had been able to be the leader that you were supposed to be, others wouldn’t have died.

               Tik had made it out, surprisingly. His left engine had almost been entirely obliterated, but of course Tok had been looking out for him throughout the battle. They were alive. They still had each other. Even Grax came over to embrace them when all was said and done. You knew he had a running bet with Rezla to see if Tik would survive the battle, and apparently he had.

               But not everyone did.

               You waited to see if Dotan and Rezla would come over and join them.

               They didn’t.

               The ships that came back were few in number, fewer than there should have been, and you didn’t spot them among those that had returned. You stood there, staring at the hugging trio for minutes until they finally turned back to you, their expressions somber.

               That was when it finally clicked in your brain. Dotan and Rezla were gone. They had died for the Resistance, been reduced to stardust, and there was nothing more you could do to help them. It was simply too late.

               _“Hey.”_

               You look up sharply to see Joran standing in the doorway, looking down at you. “You doing okay?”

               You blink as you realize you weren’t in the hangar anymore. Somehow, you had worked your way through the ship and found a quiet place to hide out in one of the back rooms of the _Raddus_ , trying and failing to come to terms with their deaths.

               “I don’t want to talk to you right now,” you murmur, the words barely passing through your lips. “I don’t want to hear about how I’m alive to lead Draboon’s future, I really don’t. Two people are dead out there because I couldn’t keep my focus. That’s my fault.”

               “It was their choice to fight for the Resistance-”

               “Fight for it,” you echo. “Not die for it. They were counting on me to _lead_ them. And I just, I don’t know. I didn’t. That’s all there is to it. They’re dead and it’s my fault.”

               “Well.” Joran lets out a sigh as if he doesn’t know what else to say. “If it makes you feel the smallest bit better, it wasn’t only your lack of leadership that’s at fault here. General Organa has just demoted Commander Dameron to Captain due to his insubordination and recklessness in attacking the Dreadnought.”

               “What?” You almost can’t believe what he’s saying as you bring yourself to look up at him. Your head still felt like it was in a fog, and you almost couldn’t be sure that you had actually heard him clearly. “Wait, Leia demoted him? For _that_? He didn’t have a choice.”

               “I wouldn’t know,” Joran admits. “But Leia says he made a bad call.”

               “This is useless,” you mutter into your knees as you cover your head with both arms. “This is absolutely useless. What are we supposed to do now?”

               “Sticking with the Resistance was a bad move,” Joran presses. “We need to go back to Draboon, _now_ , while we still can.”

               “How are we supposed to leave now?” you ask as you shake your head. “Now, with so much going on?”

               Joran dips his voice down to a whisper. “The amount of people who are supposed to know this information is slim to none, but you need to know. We don’t have a lot of fuel left. If the First Order somehow manages to track us, we’d be doomed.”

               Your heart sinks in your chest. This was not the way that things were supposed to go at all. You were supposed to team up with the Resistance with your merry little band of fighters and obliterate the First Order once and for all. Now, not only had you proven yourself to be an incompetent leader, but Poe had been demoted as well.

               So what were you supposed to do now? If you could barely survive one battle against the First Order, how were you supposed to try to take back your entire planet? You were reticent to call anything impossible, but this seemed as close to it as you ever could. Right now you were stranded in the middle of nowhere with very few ships to defend yourself with, and very little fuel in order to escape.

               “I just don’t know what to do,” you say quietly as your arms drop to your sides. “I really don’t. How can I-?”

               Suddenly the door opens and Poe walks through, looking honestly more dejected than you have ever seen him.

               “I’ll give you two some space,” Joran says quickly, and you go back to studying the way the fabric crinkled and creased around your bent knees.

               Joran leaves, but only silence replaces his absence. Neither you nor Poe seem to know what to say. The silence stretches on and on, but you don’t look up at him. You can’t. Shame stirs hot and thick in your blood and you’re afraid of the way that he might be looking at you. He knew you froze up in battle. He knew that, not all, but at least some of the deaths were on your hands. You had mentally checked out, and people had lost their lives because of it.

               “You okay?” he asks at length, but you just shrug off the question.

               “Are you?”

               “Not really.” Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as you bring yourself to glance up at him, and you’re almost surprised that it’s not Poe standing there. It was his body, sure, but you had never seen him this way in your entire life. A frown was carved so visibly into his features that it seemed almost impossible to believe that he’d ever smile again, and his shoulders sagged, as if he was finally being crushed under the weight of all of his responsibilities.

               You immediately push your own concerns to the side without even consciously realizing you’re doing so. “Poe, listen to me. Remember what you said. They knew what they were giving up for the Resistance. That’s on them. It’s not your fault.”

               “I got them killed.” He just looks down and away, and you can feel panic starting to flood your veins. You had never actually envisioned a situation in which Poe would need _you_ to cheer _him_ up, and you couldn’t deny that his dejection was scaring you more than just a little.

               “No,” you say loudly. “No, no, you can’t do that. No, Poe, you can’t do that. That’s not fair. You can’t take credit for their sacrifices. You just can’t. You can’t do that. It’s…it’s not right.”

               “It was my plan,” Poe yells suddenly, and you involuntarily jump back as he gestures to himself. “It was my plan. It was my responsibility. Everyone up there counted on me to tell them what to do and I failed them. I told them I would help get them home and I didn’t.”

               “That’s on them,” you say firmly, struggling to maintain your composure. “You can’t fly every person’s ship for them, Poe. Okay, fine, you gave the order, but it was up to them to carry it out without getting killed.”

               Poe gapes at you, and you just turn away. That wasn’t what you meant at all. Poe was so much more eloquent in the way that he phrased it, but your words were coming out all wrong.

               “Look, I lost people too,” you say gently. “I could have handled things up there better too, I-”

               “You froze.” Poe’s face is stern.

               “I did,” you admit. “I got nervous. Simulations were one thing but then when we got up there, it was just a little too real for me, I guess.” You let your shoulders rise and drop. “I guess you were right. I’m not fit to fly in battle. You were right.”

               Poe just shakes his head as he moves to sit down where you had been sitting moments earlier. You stand there and watch him uneasily. Poe had never shouted at you before. Poe had never acted so despairing before. Suddenly you decide it’s better not to bring up the low fuel reserves. If he knew, reminding him wouldn’t help, and if he didn’t, you didn’t want to sink his mood any lower.

               “I think I should go,” you say quietly as you begin to head towards the door.

               “Yeah,” Poe echoes. “I think that would be for the best.”

               Your whole body freezes, and suddenly you can’t move. You can feel a creeping sense of numbness start in your chest and work out towards your extremities. You wanted to give Poe space to think about things on his own, but the tone of his words seemed to imply something else entirely.

               “What did you say?” You blink as you turn back to face him. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

               “I think that would be for the best,” Poe echoes. He looks calmer as he drags himself to his feet, but there’s something stern hidden in the fine lines around his eyes that you still don’t like. “You should go.”

               Ever since the battle, you had felt downright numb. Now, though, now you could feel your heart literally shuddering in your chest as it embraces the floodgates of your emotions all at once.

               “What are you talking about?” Your voice is raw with embarrassing emotion. “Us? Are you talking about us? Are you telling me to go to another room on the ship or are you asking me to leave?”

               “To go,” Poe says as he gestures with one arm. “You tried to fight. You did. You’re admitting now that it’s too much for you to handle, and I agree with that. I think that things could still get messy yet, and I think you should go before things heat up again.”

               You just stand there. The words circled around your brain once, twice, three times, but they still didn’t make any sense to you. “But where would I go?”

               “Meet up with Jess and the rest of our allies in the Outer Rim,” Poe tells you. “Start preparing. If you take your X-Wing, it’ll be faster.”

               You blink at him again. You could hear what he was saying, but you couldn’t understand him. “You want me to go.”

               “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Poe says fiercely as he grabs your face in both hands. “I’ve lost everyone else today. Don’t make me lose you too.”

               Suddenly everything hits you like a tidal wave, and you wrap your arms around Poe and bury your face in his chest so he can’t see the tears that were squeezing themselves out of the corners of your eyes.

               Poe felt guilty. He felt guilty because he had been paying more attention to you up there than his own bombers. He felt guilty because they died and yet he was selfishly still relieved that you had lived. He felt guilty because he had honestly believed that you would have been able to hold your own against those TIEs, and yet you had disappointed him.

               “I’m sorry,” you blubber into his chest, crying in earnest now. “I’m sorry I failed you, Poe. I am. I really am.”

               “Hey, hey.” Poe smooths your hair back with one hand before wrapping his arms around you in a fierce embrace. “Hey, you have nothing to be sorry about, okay? This is my fault.”

               “No it’s not.” You hated crying like this in front of Poe, you absolutely hated it, but you couldn’t help yourself. “They were counting on me. Now Rezla’s dead. Dotan’s dead. They were counting on me to step up and lead them. And I checked out. I failed them.”

               “Then we failed together,” Poe says gently as he rocks you from side to side. “Come on, Iris Captain, keep it together. I need you here.”

               “I’m not Iris Captain.” You realize your words are growing thorns now; threatening to push Poe away forever. Poe just told you that he needed you, and yet you were continuing your hysterics. “I’m not, Poe. I’m not a princess anymore. I’m not a Queen. I’m not even a good pilot or a good fighter. I’m useless, Poe, I’m completely useless.”

               “Not to me,” Poe says softly, and you hug him back with all the strength you can muster as Poe whispers your name in your ear. “Come on, keep it together. I need you to pull through this.”

               It suddenly occurs to you that Poe wasn’t placating you. He wasn’t telling you that it was going to be okay because he didn’t know if it would be. But he needed you to get a grip, to give him one less thing to worry about, and you wouldn’t allow yourself to burden him more than you already had.

               Quickly, you step away from him, rubbing at your cheeks with both sleeves.

               “So, the Outer Rim?” You make your best effort to make your voice sound as stable as possible. “That’s where you need me to go?”

               “I can plug the coordinates into your X-Wing,” Poe tells you. “Just stick to the main hyperspace routes and you should make it there okay.”

               “But what about you?” you ask as you finally bring yourself to look up at him, and Poe has the decency to look surprised.

               “Me?” he echoes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

               “I know.” A note of sadness touches the edges of your voice. The fuel was low, and if the First Order managed to find them, they would be vastly outnumbered. You were leaving him behind, and you would have no way of making sure that he would be okay.

               Poe’s eyes flicker with recognition, but he doesn’t say anything for a long time.

               Finally, you’re the one that breaks the silence. “Poe, are we going to be okay?”

               “Yeah,” Poe says quickly as he wraps his arms around you. “Yeah, things are going to be okay.”

               It’s clear he’s saying it just to say it, and you quickly pull away. “No,” you insist as you gesture into the empty space between you. “Between _us_ , Poe. Are _we_ going to be okay?”

               Poe looks surprised for a moment as he seems to turn things over in his mind. He’s not saying yes automatically, but he’s not saying no either. Regardless, every second it takes for him to decide feels like a splinter being shoved deeper and deeper into your chest cavity.

               “Right now things are tense,” Poe admits. “But I love you and that’s not going to stop.”

               You know it’s supposed to comfort you, but even just the thought of leaving Poe behind made the adrenaline run thick in your blood. “When am I going to see you again?”

               “I don’t know,” Poe says quietly as he smooths your hair back out of your face, and that’s when you catch the true meaning of his expression. It wasn’t guilty or burdened; he looked downright _sad_. This wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want you to go.

               But you had to.

               And it was your fault.

               “I’m sorry,” you manage. Tears are threatening to fall again, but you do your best to hold them back. “I’m sorry I can’t stay. I’m sorry I couldn’t hold my own out there. I’m sorry I’m not stronger.”

               “Shh,” Poe says gently as he leads you back over to the couch, pulling you into his lap. “You’re strong in your own way, never forget that. Okay, so maybe you weren’t cut out for battle. Not everyone is.”

               “No one should be,” you spit into his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be either. This shouldn’t be your life, Poe Dameron. You shouldn’t have to make these choices. You shouldn’t have to give up your life to fight a war that never should have started to begin with.”

               “I know,” Poe says gently. “But we’re here now, okay? Maybe when this whole thing is over, maybe once we’ve defeated the First Order and wiped out every last stronghold in the galaxy, maybe I could come visit you on Draboon.”

               There’s weight to his words and the tears immediately start to dry as you sit back to look at him. He’s thought about this, you realize, this wasn’t just something that he was saying. If he didn’t die in battle, he would have to learn to adjust to life outside of war, outside of the Resistance. He would have to think about his future, and right now, he was saying that he wanted you in it.

               You take his hands in your own as you press his knuckles to your lips. “Will you be okay here?”

               “Yeah,” Poe says gently. “I’ll be okay. Knowing that you’re safe? Out of harm’s way? I’m not going to lie to you, it’ll make things easier.”

               “I’ll go then,” you say firmly. “I’ll go, if you promise me you’ll come back to me. If you promise me that when all of this is over, we’ll be together, no matter where that is, I’ll go.”

               “I promise,” Poe says quietly as he glances down to your lips. He leans forward to kiss you, slowly, gently, and although your lips are still chapped from crying, he doesn’t hold back. He cradles the back of your head in one large hand as he kisses you, pushing all of his frustration and longing into the small point of contact between you.

               “I want you to have this,” he says suddenly as he pulls away. He reaches down and tugs at a chain hidden just underneath his shirt. “I had kept this back in my drawer at the Resistance base, but, well, that drawer isn’t exactly there anymore, and I want you to have it. You should have it.”

               “What is it?” you ask quietly as you watch the ring emerge from underneath his collar.

               “It’s my mother’s wedding ring,” Poe says as he slips it around your neck. He moves your hair aside with one hand as he drops the ring down the front of your shirt, where it falls just between your breasts.

               “Poe.” Your voice is swelling with emotion and you think you’re about to cry again. You can’t think, you can’t breathe, and for a moment you can’t ever imagine leaving his side. A few minutes ago, you were about to walk out of this room thinking that Poe wanted you to leave for good, and now? Now Poe was telling you that if there was a future, that if he survived the war against the First Order and he made it back to you, he wanted you to be a part of that future, of _his_ future.

               “I love you,” he reminds you, and you echo it as he leans forward and presses his lips against your forehead.

               “Now go. _Hurry_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you all know me well enough by now to know that something big is going to happen in the next chapter, and you'd be right. We've got less than ten chapters to go now, so I just want to thank everyone for sticking with me this long and hope that you'll all enjoy the ride to the ending!!


	31. Chapter 31

               Emotion was bubbling in your chest as you made your way back to the ship’s hanger. You could see frightened, nervous expressions in the faces that you passed, but they were more or less unfamiliar to you.

               Where was Snap? Where was Jess? They should have been there, you knew they should have. They were much better pilots than you could have ever hoped to be, and they wouldn’t have let Poe down, you were almost certain of that fact. For now, though, you could only hope that they were already out of harm’s way in the Outer Rim, just as Poe had said. You didn’t know how you would feel if you arrived only to find out that they had ran into trouble and hadn’t been able to complete the trip. That would be too heavy a loss for both you and Poe to bear right now, and so you just kept your head down and hoped for the best.

               You quickly head towards your X-Wing, only to hear a mechanical whir from behind you catch your attention. You turn around and glance down to see Champ making his way towards you, as if he was gearing up to go.

               “Oh, hey buddy, um, I appreciate you wanting to come along on this one, but I’m just doing quick reconnaissance. Why don’t you sit tight and rest up, huh?”

               Champ lets out a series of disgruntled beeps, and you quickly spin around as you hear someone else coming up behind you.

               “And where do you think you’re going, _Iris Leader?_ ” Grax has a malicious gleam in his eye, and your heart leaps into your throat when you see that he’s dragging Joran behind him by one arm. Tik and Tok are bringing up the rear, arms crossed over their chest as though they’re displeased about something.

               Considering the look of distress on Joran’s face, you don’t have to think too hard about what that might be.

               “I think we should have a talk,” Grax continues as he looks you up and down, and you quickly nod your head in agreement before you glance about at all of the mechanics and pilots that were in the area, trying to repair the damage that had been done to their ships as quickly as possible.

               “I agree,” you say simply. “Follow me.” You spot an unmanned shuttle and quickly lead them over to it, hoping beyond hope that you could find some way to talk your way out of this. You had a feeling you might be able to overpower both Tik and Tok, but you didn’t have a chance of overpowering Grax, let alone all three of them.

               “Okay,” you say quickly as you turn around to face them. “What’s going on?”

               “That’s what we intend to find out,” Grax snorts as he folds his arms over his massive chest. “So you mind telling us where you’re really from, _Your Highness_?”

               Joran glances at you nervously, but he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes.

               “Aside from the obvious answer, how did you get him to tell you?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady. “And why him? Why would you go after him for answers?”

               “We always saw the two of you about, always wondered why you seemed to be so friendly to a mechanic when you were clearly hanging off of Commander Dameron’s arm,” Grax continues. “So when we overheard him talking to the General about concerns over your royal bloodline, it wasn’t too difficult to get him to talk.”

               Joran flinches again, trying and failing to pull himself out of Grax’s grasp. “Release him,” you say firmly, but Grax shows no indication of letting go. “I told you to release him. You have a problem with me, not with him.”

               Grax sighs and reluctantly lets go, and Joran quickly scampers around behind you, massaging his hurt arm.

               “Now,” you continue. “Everything that he told you, everything you overheard, is probably true. I didn’t lie to you. I told you I was from a wealthy family and that the First Order became interested in my planet. I told you how they tried to get to me. None of that was a lie.”

               “Yeah, but you didn’t tell us you were a princess,” Tok says, finally speaking up. You look around at all three of them, and it was clear you weren’t going to be able to hide your identity any longer.

               “I’m not a princess anymore. I’m a Queen, since the First Order murdered my mother. I saw her death with my very own eyes.” You turn back to Grax, specifically. “So it’s not _Your Highness_ anymore. It’s _Your Majesty_.”

               “Are we sure she’s really royalty?” Tik pipes up. “I mean, she doesn’t seem like she was a princess. Aren’t princess supposed to be more, I don’t know, dainty?”

               You cross your arms over your chest as you scoff, shaking your head from side to side. “When I arrived here, I was just as ignorant as you would expect. I wanted to learn to fly for the appeal of it. I thought it might be _cool_ and _exciting_ to fight in a war and be part of a battle, to be a part of that history. I’ve since grown up.”

               “So who else knows about this?” Grax demands. “Are we the only people kept out of the loop?”

               You can’t help but let out a small laugh as you shake your head again. “Out of the loop? No one’s _in_ the loop. Joran is also from Draboon. General Organa knew my mother, and most of Black Squadron knew me personally. Everyone else thinks I’m dead and I need it to stay that way. I _left_ because the First Order was trying to wipe out me, specifically. So I faked my own death and had to go on the run. I didn’t want to leave them behind, but I had to, so that I could protect everyone, literally everyone, that I still had left.”

               They’re quiet as they avoid your gaze, not bringing themselves to look at you directly, as they take in this new piece of information.

               Finally, it’s Grax who speaks next. “So where were you heading off to, _Your Majesty_?”

               “I’m still Iris Leader,” you say flatly. “You can’t be a Queen without a planet to rule over. And that’s classified.”

               “Classified?” Joran echoes. “Does that mean you’re still with the Resistance?”

               “Wait, wait, you’re planning on leaving the Resistance?” Grax demands, and you sigh as you sink your forehead into your hands.

               “No, no, and no,” you say quickly. “I’m not leaving the Resistance. I’m not going anywhere, not really. I’m just being sent to the Outer Rim in order to make sure that the supplies arrived safely. That’s all there is to it.”

               “Uh-huh.” Grax crosses his arms over his chest, as if he doesn’t believe you. “And were you planning on telling us, or were you just hoping to sneak out without being noticed?”

               “I wasn’t sneaking,” you reply firmly, standing your ground as your draw yourself up to full height. “But as I said, this is supposed to be classified. They-” Suddenly, whatever reasons you have for leaving don’t seem quite good enough anymore. “They think that there might be a spy in our midst. They want me to go, but quietly. They don’t want to draw attention to the fact that we have one less fighter here.”

               “It’s got to be more than one,” Tok says as he steps up beside Grax. “One X-Wing flying around in First Order occupied space? Sorry, Your Majesty, but we’re going with you.”

               “No.” You gape at him as you shake your head from side to side. “No, this is far too dangerous.”

               “It looks like we handled ourselves pretty well back there,” Grax says. “Maybe even better than you. Come on, you _need_ us.”

               You bite your lip as you glance around to each of them in turn. They weren’t backing down. They were going to come with you, or they were probably going to put the hangar on alert. Either way, you couldn’t take that risk.

               “Fine,” you say at length. “But you can’t go in your X-Wings. It’ll just look like a fighter force and we don’t want to engage any hostiles. I’ll take my X-Wing, if you three can share a shuttle. That way, it’ll look like I’m only along as your escort.”

               “You four,” Joran says suddenly as he moves around you to step beside Tok. “I’m not staying with the Resistance. My place isn’t here. My loyalties are to my planet, first and foremost. I go where you go, Your Majesty.”

               You’re about to tell him to stay put before you remembered that you had left Garrett behind as well. True, he didn’t come along on your training missions, but if he had, he might have been a lot safer. He might have survived.

               “You’re your own person,” you say at length. “If you want to come along, I can’t stop you.” You cross your arms over your chest. “But _no one_ else is coming along. Do you understand?”

               Right at that moment, there’s a few mechanical whirs and beeps as Champ rolls onto the shuttle from behind them.

               You let out a sigh as you sink your face into your palm. You had kept your voices low and you were fairly certain you wouldn’t be overheard by any humans. Unfortunately, you hadn’t seemed to factor droids into that equation.

               “Okay, anyone _else_?” you say loudly. No one moves. No one stirs.

               “All right, then. Let’s get going.”

* * *

 

               You fly alongside the shuttle, piloted by both Grax and Tok while Joran and Tik sat in the back.

               “Testing my comms, you can read me loud and clear, right?”

               “For the third time, Commander, yes, we can hear you,” Grax replies. “What’s giving you the goosebumps?”

               “Nothing.” You shake your head as you stare at the vast expanse of space ahead of you. There wasn’t anything on your scanners, but you still couldn’t help but be concerned. What if you happened to be cornered by a pack of TIEs? If you did, there would be no escape for them, not in that shuttle. There would be no way to outrun them, and you weren’t confident enough in your own abilities to shoot them down if the situation called for it.

               _Don’t worry, I got your back_ , Champ reminds you, and you cast a small smile over your shoulder as you regard him.

               “So now that we’re safely away from the prying eyes of the Resistance, when do you want us to deviate from course?” Tok asks.

               You can feel your stomach literally somersault in confusion. “Tok, you’re going to need to say that again. There is no way I heard you correctly.”

               “Joran filled us in on the plan,” Tok continues, but you just sit there, dumbfounded.

               “Plan?” you echo. “You mean the plan to meet up with Resistance forces in the Outer Rim?”

               “We’re far enough away from their ships that they won’t be able to pick up on our comms,” Grax informs you. “So you can drop the act. We know what we’re really here for.”

               You can feel your stomach give another lurch. “And, uh, what is it Joran said that we were planning?”

               “To take back control of Draboon.”

               You slump back in your seat as you temporarily mute the comm.

               _“What the fuck?”_

               You scream as loud as you can, so loud that your voice blisters in your throat and you’re sure they almost heard you despite the comms.

 _What’s wrong?_ Champ beeps excitedly from behind you. _What’s going on?_

“If we try to take back my home planet, we’ll all be killed,” you mutter under your breath as you flip the comm channel back online.

               “Okay, listen up,” you say firmly. “I know that’s what Joran told you but we _are_ going to the Resistance base in the Outer Rim. We _are not_ going back to Draboon. Do I make myself clear?”

               “The reason that you were in Rayda’s bar was to find an elite fighting force, wasn’t it?” Grax asks.

               “Yeah, yeah but for the _Resistance_ ,” you stutter lamely. “Not for me. As much as I’d love to be able to take back to my home planet, it’s a suicide mission.”

               “Not necessarily,” Tok replies. “The last that I heard, supplies were still being smuggled onto the far side of the planet, near where the jungles are thickest. We might be able to sneak in that way.”

                “It’s too dangerous,” you insist. “The nighttime cold between jungles is lethal. We’d never make it. Then there’s also the issue of the mites…”

But even as you’re talking, your mind is suddenly somewhere else. Your thoughts drift over to L’ulo as you recall how he had once made the perilous journey to the temple in order to undergo the trial. He had survived many days and nights in the jungle, and if he had been able to do it, couldn’t you?

               That had been the night when Poe had introduced you to his family, to Black Squadron. You could still remember how Poe was acting the day after, constantly asking you about what you had discussed with L’ulo the night before while he hadn’t been paying attention. He hid his feelings well behind his lopsided smirk, but now with the gift of hindsight, you could see that he had feelings for you even then. Poe Dameron had been in love with you maybe since the first moment he laid eyes on you.

               At least you could say the feeling was mutual.

               “What if we did it?” you wonder out loud, suddenly feeling adrenaline rush through your bloodstream. What if you snuck back to your home planet and managed to overthrow the First Order forces there? You had told Poe that you were going for supplies, and that would hardly be a lie if you managed to recapture Draboon. Their lapis stores, if they hadn’t been totally depleted by the First Order, would be enough to fund the Resistance in the continued war.

               “Not to mention, you would owe us big time,” Tok points out, and you let out a sigh as you roll your eyes. They were pirates. They weren’t doing something for nothing, and they weren’t going to risk their lives for this unless the reward would match their contribution.

               “If you manage to help me take back control of my planet, you can have whatever you wish,” you reply simply. “Put me back on the throne, liberate my people, and there’s nothing I could deny you.”

               “Sounds like a plan,” Grax responds, but you’re quiet as you settle back into your seat and set a new course for Draboon. It wouldn’t take you long to get there at all, but it suddenly hit you with stunning clarity just why you had been avoiding even thinking about going back to begin with.

               You had no idea what your home planet was even like now. Would you still recognize it? Were its original inhabitants still even there, or had they been forced out of their homes and suffered through hard labor until they worked themselves into an early grave? Maybe the mining operations had all been replaced by First Order stooges and Stormtroopers. You had no idea if they had the numbers, but it was possible, wasn’t it?

               The more optimistic notion was that the First Order had more or less left everything the way it had been before they arrived. Hopefully your home would still be standing. You doubted that they would destroy such an epitome of luxury, but what about everyone else’s houses? Had the First Order let people carry on with their lives as they usually did, maybe just with an imposed curfew and a few other restrictions, or had they completely dismantled the entire infrastructure of your society?

               You didn’t know, and you were dreading finding out. Would people blame you for it? Had they blamed your mother for it? Did they curse the family name behind their breaths as they suffered through this occupation, wishing that the royal family had more foresight not to let them befall such a predicament?

               Or would they be relieved to see you alive and well? Would they be glad that their Queen had returned to liberate them, to restore their lives to some semblance of their former selves?

               Or would they be like Joran? He had hated that you left, hated that you played even a tiny role in the murder of his brother. He didn’t think you should be Queen, but you had an entire royal legacy to fall back on. Maybe people would think the same. Maybe they wouldn’t want you to be Queen, not after you had abandoned them and put them through so much torture, but maybe they would just bow down and accept it with no one else to lead them.

              This wasn’t fair to them, none of it was. Right now you had to make a decision. If you were going back, you had to commit to being Queen. If you survived, you would have to put your own wants and needs aside and work towards the betterment of everyone. You would have to do what was best to restore people’s lives to how they were before the First Order’s occupation. You had to help fund the Resistance so that they could wipe out the First Order and guarantee that they never threatened your planet’s sovereignty again.

              Quietly, your thoughts drift back over to Poe. You were a lousy fighter pilot, if you were being honest with yourself. You could do well in a simulation, but in battle, you froze up. You could fly, but you couldn’t fight. It just wasn’t a part of who you were, and it wasn’t someone that you wanted to be.

              Truth be told, it didn’t seem like someone Poe wanted you to be either.

              So was that it then? You wanted Poe in your future, but with you as Queen of an entire planet, and him fighting on the front lines, you didn’t see how it was possible. Maybe in the future, maybe if the First Order was eliminated and you and Poe both survived this ordeal, then you could figure out where you stood if you still wanted to try to work things out. But right now? Right now you had to help Poe by taking back your planet and hoping he would understand if you failed.

             As you near Draboon, you can feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You were almost delirious as your mind ran through the endless train of hypotheticals that could occur, but you forced yourself to try to stay present and alert to any dangers that might approach.

            _Ready?_ Champ beeps from behind you. _Thirty seconds to Draboon’s border._

            You take a deep breath, preparing for whatever horror might greet you once you dropped out of hyperspace. For all you knew, the First Order could have completely destroyed Draboon in their lust for the precious lapis resources it provided.

            “Heads up, Iris Squadron, we’ve just entered Mandalorian Legacy territory,” you announce over the comms, realizing that probably meant nothing to most of them. “Basically it means we’re just a few seconds from Draboon now.”

            _If it was even still there._

            You had never heard that it had been glassed from orbit, but a part of you almost expected to come upon your planet and see dark smoke rising from the jungles and its atmosphere all but completely burned away.

            The blue swirls of hyperspace shift back to fixed points of starlight against the blackness of space. Ahead, the green jewel of Draboon looked relatively unchanged, with one small difference. At the center of Forzin’s Scar, a large jagged shape glowed dull orange, as if there was a massive fire burning in the bottom of the valley.

            You don’t have time to process what this might mean as the unmistakable nose of a First Order battlecruiser slowly emerges from the black shadow around Draboon.

            You had always thought of the First Order’s occupation in a series of mental images. You imagined Stormtroopers patrolling the corridors around your home. You pictured them marching through the streets, forcing people to work in the mines, even if they were much too young or too sick. In all of your hypothetical imaginings, however, you never thought about their precautionary air defenses.

            Or how difficult it could make trying to sneak onto the planet.

            “We’re not alone, Iris Squadron. Stay calm and keep your ship on a steady course. With any luck, they won’t notice us and we can hide behind the planet.”

            Suddenly, a green cannon bolt shoots by between your X-Wing and your team’s shuttle.

            Grax lets out a throaty chuckle through the comm. “Looks like we’re out of luck, Commander.”

            “Take evasive action!” You would be able to avoid their blasts with your X-Wing, but you weren’t sure if you’d be able to protect the shuttle, especially not by yourself. “Do you have a visual on the TIE fighters?”

            “Negative, Commander,” Tok tells you. “That shot came from the battlecruiser.”

            “Just one?”

             That didn’t seem right.

            You finally spot them as a star seems to blink in and out of the foreground. There are three TIE starfighters racing towards you, and closing fast. As they get closer, they let loose a volley of fire against the shuttle, and you can only watch as the shots deflect off the shuttle’s shield.

            “A little help here, Commander,” Grax grunts as the blasts rock the ship, and you realize that you were going to have to step up and be the leader they needed you to be. You failed them in the battle over D’Qar, but maybe there was a chance to redeem yourself here.

            Champ lets out a few shrill beeps of encouragement, reminding you that your team was counting on you for their survival. You lock the wings of your X-Wing open and accelerate to engage the TIE fighters. They seem to sense that you’ve engaged, and you see the red glow of the TIE fighters’ engines come into view as they turn around.

            You chase the TIE fighters, determined to destroy them before they could reach the battlecruiser and make a personal report to their commander. Small details might get missed over comms, but they often came out in person, and you could not afford for the First Order to know you were here. As each shot lines up, you take it, and dodge the wreckage of the exploding TIE each time. As the third fighter explodes, you get the sense that this had been all too easy. Regardless of whether you made it to Draboon’s surface now, the battlecruiser had definitely spotted you and the element of surprise was gone. This had just gotten a lot harder.

            “Iris Squadron, punch it,” you shout. “Otherwise we’ll never make it to the planet’s surface in time. Head for the-”

            Your directive is suddenly cut off by a gruff cry of alarm through the comm.

               “Commander!” You look up quickly to hear Grax’s frantic shout, and that’s when you notice several squadrons of TIEs forming a tight circle around your ship and their shuttle. The three lone TIE fighters had been bait in a trap, as if they had known you were coming. You were surrounded, and there was nothing that you could do. There was no way you or the shuttle would be able to break away from the TIEs fast enough to prevent being hit, and nothing you could do to stop from evaporating into a million little specks of stardust.           

_Poe doesn’t know._

The thought hits you suddenly that Poe didn’t know where you were. Poe thought that you were headed to the Outer Rim. He thought that you were following his instructions, but instead you had become brash and overconfident. What were you _thinking_? You knew that Draboon was being occupied by the First Order. You knew it was well-defended. And you thought that no more than half a dozen soldiers were going to storm the castle and save the day?

               Your worst nightmare was coming true. You’d never live to see your planet again, and Poe would never know what had happened to you. He’d spend the rest of his life wondering if you had been captured or shot down by First Order forces. He’d spend the rest of his life wondering if perhaps you realized that this was too much for you to take and figured that you had run away again. He’d spend the rest of his life not knowing, wondering if maybe today, a day set very far off in the future, was a day you would shed your shame once and for all and at least let him know you were alive.

               “It was a pleasure serving with you, Commander,” Grax says over the comm, and you let out a whimpered cry as you realize that you were crying. Your chest shuddered with the realization and you could feel hot, thick tears sliding down your cheeks from underneath your visor.

               “You too,” you manage, your voice hot and thick in your throat, but you’re not sure they heard you over Tik speaking in the background.

               “They haven’t fired yet. Why haven’t they fired yet?”

               As if on cue, you see that you are receiving a transmission from Draboon’s surface, and you quickly switch to internal comms as you move to answer it.

_Be bold. Do what Poe would do. You’re about to die. You have nothing to lose now._

               “Iris Commander here. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

               “Iris Commander?” There’s a brief laugh from the other side of the comm. It makes your blood run cold just hearing it. “Is that what you’re calling yourself now, Princess?”

               So that was it. They knew it was you. Truth be told, if anyone had recognized your X-Wing, it’d be a pretty easy bet that it’d be you, but how did they know that you were still _alive_?

               “The Princess of Draboon was killed on Rugosa,” you reply, struggling to keep your voice calm. “Don’t you still get the HoloNet there on Draboon?”

               “Oh we do,” the voice replies. “And a great deal of _other_ transmissions as well.”

               You gulp as you try to figure out what this means. Were there still spies in the Resistance that had recognized you and reported you to them? Had someone that you had come across while you were smuggling realized your identity and reported your appearance to the First Order in exchange for a hefty bonus?

               Asking would only make you look hesitant, look _weak_ , and that is something that you can’t afford to be right now with at least two dozen TIEs hovering all around you.

               “I knew that you would come back here eventually,” he continues. “I did tell Dameron that his little stunt wouldn’t change anything.”

               _Stunt? What? What had Poe-?_

Suddenly you can feel your spit go dry in your mouth as you realize just who you were talking to.

               “Cut the games,” you manage at last. “You want me dead to secure your hold on Draboon, right? Well here I am. If you’re going to end it, just go ahead and do it.”

               “Oh, but I did enjoy you showing off the skills Dameron taught you,” the voice replies with a tangible note of smugness. “Though I did warn you that the pilots of the First Order are inferior to no one.”

               You draw in a deep breath as you let it out slowly. “I don’t know how you’re alive, Kole, but let me assure you that even if you kill me right here, right now, you won’t be for much longer.”  

               Kole just laughs, his voice partially cut off by the static in the comms. “Are you sure about that, princess? No one’s touched me yet.”

               “That’s because everyone thought you were dead,” you spit into the comm, only to be met with Kole’s self-righteous laughter once again.

               “And that’s what General Organa told you, wasn’t it?” There’s something about his voice, something honest, that chilled you to your core. “Of course she would. I won’t blame her. Did she ever inform you of the part she had to play concerning Draboon’s downfall?”

               You open your mouth, but for a moment, no sound comes out. “What are you talking about?”

               “Who was it that told you I was dead?” Kole asks suddenly. “It was General Organa, wasn’t it?”

               You try to think back. Was it Snap who had told you? Or Poe himself? You couldn’t remember, but either way, that was besides the point. Whatever they told you, of course it had to come from Leia. “I don’t remember.”

               “Ah, I’m sure you don’t. Because, let’s see now, why would she tell you the truth? Why tell you that she decided to intervene after all? Why would she tell you that she had a hand in your mother’s downfall? Why would she tell you that you still had a home to go back to?”

               You let out a slow and shaky breath. The TIEs are still staring you down, and it suddenly dawned on you that Kole was probably going to tell you the truth at the very last second, to at least give you some small bit of comfort as you died.

               “What do you mean _home to go back to_?” you demand. “You took over my planet. You tried to kill me.”

               “No,” he replies firmly. “No, we tried to capture you. When it became apparent that you were on the verge of escaping, they tried to down your craft and take you and Dameron by force, yes, but we were never going to kill you. I believe I told General Organa as much.”

               He seems to be goading you on, and you take the bait.

               “Okay, then, I’ll play this game. What did you tell her?”

               “To send you home,” he replies simply. “I told her the arrangement was still on the table. So long as she sent you home, no harm would befall you or any of your _friends…if_ I could help it.”

               Your lower lip quivers as you try to think back to that night. You hadn’t gone to see Leia but Snap had been pretty quick to reveal that Kole was dead. Was that what Leia had wanted him to think or did he know the truth as well? And what about Poe? Was he briefed that Kole was still alive and in charge of your planet, or did Leia choose to keep him ignorant of that as well?

               _What if Poe didn’t tell you Kole was still alive, that there was still a chance that you could go home, because he was afraid of losing you all over again?_

               “You still with me, Princess?”

               “Yeah,” you mutter faintly. “Yeah, I’m still here.”

               “Now,” Kole begins. “I’m not the man you think I am. I’m not the man the Resistance, I’m sure, has painted me to be. I’m a forgiving person. I’m capable of giving second chances. You didn’t want any part of this war. Leia manipulated you into serving her Resistance, and I understand why she did it, but that doesn’t make it right. To kidnap the Queen of an entire planet just to serve her agenda-?”

               “You murdered my mother,” you scream over the comm. You can feel your vein throbbing in your neck as tears began to flow anew. “You murdered her. She was defenseless and you killed her.”

               “She broke the rules of our engagement,” Kole says simply. You have no idea what your mother was trying to do, or how she was teaming up with Leia, but you were suddenly frustrated about how little you knew about what really went on.

               “I want answers,” you sniff as you wipe your face dramatically with your sleeve. “But why bother telling me all of this if you plan on killing me anyway?”

               “If I wanted you dead, you would have been blasted out of the sky already,” Kole says simply. “No, I would like a chance for us to chat, if that’s possible.”

               “To chat?” Your voice barely comes out as more than a whisper. “You’ve already taken control of my planet. You’ve killed my mother. What more can you possibly want from me?”

               “Believe it or not, the people are still fiercely loyal to their Queen,” Kole says, a clear note of distaste in his voice. “I believe if we are able to come to certain _terms_ , they may be more amenable to our occupation.”

               You can feel your heart do a backflip in your chest. The people still wanted you to be Queen. They would support you. They would stand by you.

               “I come unarmed,” you say suddenly, finally finding your voice. “With me is a former citizen of Draboon and three independent contractors that serve as my private security detailing. I will come down if their safety is guaranteed, as well as mine.”

               “Of course,” Kole says warmly. “I look forward to meeting them. See you soon, _Your Majesty_.”

               A sudden flash of black draws your attention, and you quickly look up to see the TIE Fighters retreating. You quickly flip your comm channel back online only to be met with a chorus of frightened voices.

               “Guys, guys,” you yell over the noise. “I need everyone to shut up and listen to me for a second, okay?”

               “What the hell is going on?” Grax demands. “You went silent and Tik was convinced they killed you with a Sienar wave.”

               “What?” The image of Kole meeting Tik briefly passes through your thoughts, but you shake your head to dispel it. “Okay, my _private security team_ is being granted clearance to land on Draboon. Follow my lead.”

               Grax lets out a snort of good humor. “Okay, I know you’re good, Commander, but don’t these people want you dead? How exactly did you manage that one?”

               You stare down at your home planet suddenly filled with a crippling sense of unease. What if everything Kole had told you was a lie? What if he only wanted you to enter the planet’s atmosphere so he could capture you and send a ransom holo to the Resistance? It would definitely serve to distract Poe, and force the Resistance into an uncomfortable position.

               Of course, what if he was telling the truth? Right now there were too many uncertainties, too much you didn’t know. But one way or another, you had to liberate your planet, and to do that, you had to close your eyes and hope for the best.

               “When I figure that out, Grax, I’ll let you know,” you reply evenly. “Now come on, everyone, I want to show you my home.”               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the Queen is going home!! I know people have been wondering about what changes I made to the story after TLJ, but basically the story was going to always end up here. One thing that was true even before TLJ is that the Resistance needed resources, and so my original plan was to have the Reader quietly sneak away only to find out that Poe and Black Squadron had joined her to help take back Draboon. But with the weird way Rian completely wrote out Black Squadron from TLJ and with Poe butting heads with Holdo (my original plan was that Reader would be caught in the crossfire because Holdo was an old friend of her mother's, but after what went down in the film, it was seemed like way, way too much drama) so now the Reader and her little crew are going to take on Kole and an entire First Order planet by themselves....we'll see how that plays out, shall we?


	32. Chapter 32

               You had never walked into your throne room from the exterior doors before. Surrounded by a battalion of Stormtroopers on either side of you, you were escorted from the hangar and led into the castle, where you assumed Kole would be waiting.

               As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice that the castle had fallen into an alarming state of disrepair. There were cracks in the castle’s even façade, and you could tell that the regular upkeep was greatly diminished. Moss and bramble clung to the outer walls, the floors were dirty, and bits of the carpet looked torn and frayed, probably ruined by the heavy equipment the First Order was no doubt lugging around the castle.

               As the doors opened, your heart sank as you saw Kole sitting on the throne at the front of the room. Your team stayed fortunately silent behind you as you made your way up to the front of the room, shoulders squared, refusing to show how afraid you were. You were not going to back down, and you were not going to be intimidated by him; you simply would not allow yourself to be.

               “Ah, princess,” Kole says as you approach. “Welcome home.”

               “You don’t belong in that chair, Kole.” You stand your ground, fists clenched at your sides as you look up at him, almost daring him to challenge you.

               “Ah, no,” Kole agrees as he places both hands on the arm rests. “It _is_ a little small for me. You, however…” His voice trails off as he stands up and offers you his hand. “I believe it would fit you perfectly.”

               He gestures his guards away, and you hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out what his game was.

               “Come, Your Majesty. Your throne is your birth right, is it not?”

               You glare at him as you ignore his hand and step up the narrow steps that led to the chair. You turn around and sit down, trying to quell your unease. This had been your mother’s chair, and while Kole had no right to sit in it, you weren’t sure you did either. You hadn’t earned the title, and right now, you weren’t sure you ever would.

               “All hail the Queen of Draboon,” Kole says as he announces you. “Everyone, kneel before your Queen. I said _kneel_.”

               Joran and the others exchange uneasy glances as they all get to their knees, alongside the Stormtroopers, who were already bowing.

               “That includes you, Kole,” you say coldly. “If I am your Queen, then bow to me.”

               “Why, of course, Your Majesty,” Kole says, making a dramatic gesture as he drops to one knee. For a moment, you wished you had an axe so that you could chop his head off on the spot. “I’m sure the people will be glad to know that you’ve returned.”

               “I’m sure they will be,” you echo, before another thought crosses through your mind. “I think they should see me. Immediately. Nothing better to instill pride in Draboon’s name than seeing their rightful Queen on the throne, hm?”

               “Soon enough,” Kole says as he gestures to the Stormtroopers. “We have a great many things to discuss first.”

               You look down to notice the Stormtroopers trying to herd Joran and the others out of the throne room. “Wait, no. They are my security force. They all stay with me. Where are you taking them?”

               “Just to show them their new accommodations,” Kole says pleasantly as you jump to your feet. You weren’t sure how you were going to fight him or armed Stormtroopers, but right now, it didn’t appear you had much of a choice.

               “Don’t worry, Your Majesty,” Grax calls over his shoulder. “I’m quite eager to see our new _accommodations_.”

               You hoped beyond hope that Grax had some sort of plan, and you let them go without another word. Once the doors shut behind them, however, you whirl around to face Kole. “How about this. Let’s play a game. I’ll tell you the truth, lay all of my cards out on the table, if you’ll do the same with me. Sound fair?”

               “Sounds interesting,” Kole admits. “But you have me intrigued. Go ahead.”

               “Where are you taking them?” you demand. “To the dungeons? Are you planning to lock them up?”

               “Well of course,” Kole laughs as he spreads his hands by his sides, and for a moment you’re taken aback by his candor. “They’re your private security force, that’s what you told me, yes? Do you really think I’d just let a rogue team of skilled warriors run around my castle?”

               You regard him coldly. “ _My_ castle.”

               “ _Our_ castle,” he corrects you, and you don’t like the gloat in his voice when he says it.

               “So that offer is still on the table, then?” you ask. “The same one you proposed to me before?”

               “I don’t think we really need any sort of deal,” Kole tells you gently. “People have gotten used to the way that things are around here. People have gotten used to me leading to Draboon. They miss their Queen, I’m sure, but I think they’ve learned to live without her.”

               You can feel your heart plummet in your chest as what Poe said after your first meeting with Kole comes back to you. “But I do have a purpose here, I’m sure. After all, if I were to convince the people that Draboon is better off with the First Order in charge, with _you_ in charge, they’ll surely submit to your rule without question.”

               “Well they’ve already done _that_ ,” Kole says with an idle shrug. “What I want to know is, is that what you’re planning to do?”

               “Me?” you ask, trying to seem as innocent as possible. “Why else would I be here?”

               “That does pose an interesting question,” Kole admits. “Considering the last I heard, you and Poe Dameron were getting rather close again. Did something change?”

               Your heart drops somewhere into the pit of your stomach. “You’ve been spying on us. On the Resistance.”

               Kole just laughs and shakes his head. “Why do you sound so surprised? I’ve thought about bringing you back for a while now, but I thought it would be more fun to wait and see if you would come of your own volition. And you did. Might I ask why? Remember, no lies now.”

               You had smartly removed Poe’s ring from your neck, but you can feel it burning a hole in your boot all the same. “We had a fight after the Battle of D’Qar. The Resistance lost all their bombers due to his orders. He was too burdened by trying to make sure that I was okay to lead effectively, and wanted me to go. As I’m sure you can imagine, I’m not one to stay where I don’t feel I’m wanted.”

               “No,” Kole agrees as he teases his lower lip with his thumb, trying to figure out if you’re telling the truth. Finally, he just shrugs, as if it didn’t truly make a difference to him either way. “I guess he couldn’t keep up with the ruse any longer.”

               “Ruse?” you ask blankly. “What ruse?”

               “I have been an enemy of Poe Dameron for a long time,” Kole explains. “And if there’s one thing I’ve learned about him, is that he gets ahead through that smart mouth of his. It’s how it got him as far as it did in the New Republic. He makes friends to fight his battles for him, and keeps talking his way to the top. He’s a charmer, and I won’t lie and say I’m not at least a little envious of his skills.”

               You blink and shake your head from side to side. “What are you even talking about? You took my planet from me. Without that I have nothing. There is nothing that Poe could want from me.”

               “Are you sure?” Kole asks. “I’m sure it was always your intention to get your planet back _someday,_ and I’m sure he would want to be right by your side when you did.”

               You blink again, still unable to comprehend his meaning. “Are you trying to say that Poe only pretended to like me because he wanted to take over Draboon?”

               “We’re each vying for power,” Kole says with an idle shrug. “Just in different ways.”

               You try to look troubled, but in truth, the idea was so ridiculous that the best you can manage is not to look amused. “And what of General Organa? You said she knew you were alive, and I can believe that, but what offensive did she plan against you that would lead you to invade my home?”

               “We intercepted coded messages between Queen Lyri and General Organa,” Kole explains. “We had been intercepting your communications for a while, but what we didn’t realize was that select messages were coded. General Organa had managed to get her hands on some compromising footage that she wanted Queen Lyri to display to the New Republic Senate, one that would have almost assuredly granted them protection over their planet. So, on the night before she was about to leave for the Capitol, we decided to take things into our own hands.”

               You cross your arms over your chest as you think it over. It was the best way that Leia could help, considering the circumstances, but even then, it still didn’t sound like much. “What footage?”

               “It hardly matters now,” Kole says dryly as he gestures around the throne room. “To put it simply, princess, this is my home. Now, it can be _our_ home, if you choose to see it that way. I do so very much want that to be your choice.”

               “My choice,” you say bitterly. “Or the semblance of choice. Let’s be honest, Kole, if I had any choice in this, I would take back my planet and you would take all of your Stormtroopers and head back to whatever First Order installation you came from, leaving Draboon in your rearview mirror.”

               “I can believe it,” Kole says, revealing a toothy grin that does more to unnerve you than anything else. “In fact, I do believe it. With me out of the way, I’m sure you would sacrifice your own planet’s resources to aid the Resistance in their fight against us, isn’t that right?”

               “No.” You almost can’t stifle your laughter, and for the first time, Kole has the decency to look surprised. “After what I just saw, I’m done with the Resistance. I’m done with their failed leadership. I’m done with their worthless, optimistic ideals in the face of a crushing defeat of the First Order. I’ve given up on them. I don’t know what I was expecting when I came back, I really don’t, but I just want my home back. That’s all I want.”

               Kole grins and nods his head in time to your words, as if he likes what he’s hearing. “Very well put, Your Majesty. As you said, this is your home, and you are right where you belong.”

               “But you’re not,” you say coldly. “This is my home, not your home, and I’m only going to ask you to leave just this once Kole Praxton.”

               “I’m just curious, what are you going to do if I refuse to leave?” Kole asks. “You have no back up. No weapons. What are you going to do?”

               _This is for Garrett._

Without warning, you pull your fist back and punch Kole across the face, just as Garrett had taught you. Kole staggers back a few steps, but unfortunately, doesn’t tumble down the stairs as you were hoping. You’re about to kick him in the ribs and try to send him down yourself when he grabs your foot and knocks you off your balance. You fall onto your bottom, and Kole is on top of you in an instant, pressing you uncomfortably into the hard floor.

               “Nice try, princess.” You can feel his hot breath in your face, and it makes you nauseous as you struggle to pull away. Kole puts both hands on your upper arms, pressing you down, and as much as you struggle and kick, you can’t pull away.

               “You might want to stop struggling and hear what I have to say before I employ drastic measures.”

               There’s something in his tone that you don’t like, and you quickly freeze. “What kind of drastic measures?”

               “I know you may not like me much now…” Kole’s voice trails off as he runs the tip of his finger from the edge of your hairline down your cheek. “But I think that we could get along, given time. After all, it’s so much more rewarding to see you give into it instead of having to compel you to.” You blink and shake your head, not understanding his meaning. “Poe did tell you about what happened to Agent Terex, did he not?”

               The words _cybernetic implant_ runs through your mind, and you start to struggle desperately again. The only thing worse than being trapped here with Kole was being a brain-dead zombie who did Kole’s bidding while your real self was trapped beneath the surface of your own skin. It was a nightmare that you didn’t even want to consider, and you quickly shake your head back and forth as tears prick in the corners of your eyes.

               “Don’t do that,” you mumble feebly. “Please, I’ll do whatever you want. Just please, not that. Don’t…not that.”

               Kole chuckles as he releases you and gets to his feet. “I think we have an understanding.” He reaches down to help you up, and while you want to knock his hand away, right now you don’t think you’re in any position to refuse it. “Besides, I’d hate to spoil that pretty face of yours.”

               “I’ll do what you want,” you say softly. At least if you were in full control of your mental facilities, you might be able to figure out a way to free Grax and the others to help you out of this mess. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

               “I’m sure you will, in time,” Kole says smoothly. “But I’m not sure we’re quite there yet.”

               “Then what-?”

               You don’t have time to finish your thought as you feel the electric ripple of the stunner biting through your bloodstream. Your last thought before you closed your eyes and surrendered to the unrelenting blackness in front of your vision was that you should have died on Rugosa.

* * *

 

               You feel the pain in your lower part of your body and immediately keep your eyes closed, afraid of what you’ll see if you do. Beside you, no more than two inches away, you can feel someone’s hot breath on your face as they snore with their mouth open.

               You know immediately that it’s not Poe.

               You can feel despair rising up hot and thick in your chest, but you force yourself to remain calm. Right now he was asleep, and if you did anything to wake him, you had the potential of making things worse for yourself than they already were.

               Why had you let them talk you into coming back here? True, you didn’t know Kole was alive, but you knew that it was dangerous. You knew that it was more than likely that this could result in you being killed.

               Somehow, though, this was worse than being killed. How was Poe even supposed to touch you again? Why would he even want anything to do with you? For all intents and purposes, you had defied his orders and now you were suffering the worst imaginable consequences for them.

               You let a breath out slowly through your nostrils. You couldn’t freak out. Not here, and definitely not now. Kole was asleep beside you, and that could prove auspicious _if_ , and only if, you were willing to keep a cool head.

               Slowly you blink your eyes open, not bringing your eyes down to look at yourself. Instead, you direct your eyes upward, to the shackle that bound your right hand to the headboard just above your head. With this position, you were still free to drink from the water at your bedside table, but you couldn’t reach around and choke him to death.

               You could always try to poke his eye out, but that was, unfortunately, non-lethal, and would just leave you with greater consequences than you were prepared to deal with right now.

               If you could get your hands free, you could probably release the shackles around your ankles, but first the one around your wrist had to go. You pulled at the restraints, quietly, but it wasn’t budging. You tried to squeeze your wrist out from under its harsh embrace, but it still did no good. He had secured it to your wrist so tightly you were probably going to have a bruise when he finally took it off.

               If he ever took it off.

               You lay back down, trying to figure out what you could do, if anything. You needed to get the shackle off, but no amount of prying or pulling seemed to loosen it. Maybe you could erode it with _time_ , but that was something that was not on your side. You didn’t want to be here any longer than you had to be, which meant you had to come up with a plan.

               But nothing comes. No one was coming to rescue you. Joran and the others were probably somewhere in the dungeons right now, and no one from the Resistance was coming to rescue you either. You were alone, and there was no one who could rescue you but yourself.

               _Trust the Force._

Leia’s words come back to you now, and that’s when you know that you really have to be getting desperate if you expected the Force to help you out of this. The Force wouldn’t be able to unlock the shackles for you, but right now you had nothing else that you could possibly think of to try to help you escape.

               _Okay, Force,_ you say quietly, listening to the way your thoughts reverberate around your own mind. _If you’re there, and I really need you to be, I need_ help _, more than I ever have before. This isn’t about seeing Poe again. This isn’t about my guilt or anything I’ve done in the past. This is beyond me. Kole is holding my planet hostage and I_ need _to stop him to prevent my planet from falling into entropy. For the good of the galaxy. For…_

That was as far as you got. Gently, you open your eyes and tug at the restraints, but they seem just about as tight as before. The Force wasn’t listening to you. The Force didn’t care about what happened. Okay, maybe if you were Force-sensitive enough to control it you could do something, but for everyone else? For the people whose Force levels were so minute it was barely worth registering? There was nothing you could do to get it to listen to you.

               Suddenly, something just to the right of the shackle catches your eye. It takes some maneuvering, but you’re able to twist your body around in such a way to see past the headboard and find yourself staring at a crack inset into the wall. Due to the initial construction of the castle, such cracks were common and had to be refitted regularly, but it seemed Kole and his men didn’t make the maintenance of their castle a priority.

               That was going to cost them.

               Again, you catch something out of the corner of your eye, and you find your heart leap into your chest as you see one of the venomous mites weaving in and out of the crack. You remembered how disgusted Jessika was when you had first told her about them when you were sitting around the table with L’ulo and the rest of Black Squadron when you had first arrived. You had told them how deadly they were, how they had wiped out of the smaller animals on your planet, and how you had to make sure that your people were regularly vaccinated against them.

               But you hadn’t had your vaccinations recently, not since you had left the planet and a few months before that, and you doubted you were still immune now. No, if you got bitten, it was going to be a slow, miserable death.

               But that suddenly gives you an idea. Maybe you weren’t going to get out of this, but that didn’t mean you had to give up. You could go down fighting. Moreover, you could take someone else with you and make sure that he never threatened the safety of your people ever again.

               You knew for a fact that no one would have warned Kole about the venomous mites, or else he would have taken a lot more care in making sure that these cracks were patched immediately. If he didn’t know about the mites, he probably didn’t know about the vaccinations, which meant that he was completely vulnerable to just how deadly the mites could be.

               You watch the mite travel up and down the wall, as if searching for food. It probably was, as it was strange to see just one of them alone. They travelled in packs, that was how they _hunted_ , and you supposed that if one was here, the rest were probably not too far behind.

               Kole stirs sleepily from beside you, and you know that you’ll only have one chance at this. You have only one opportunity to try to eliminate him, and you had to take it. The First Order would still occupy the planet, but maybe without Kole’s presence, you could hope that at least _something_ would change, that something good could still happen. You would still be stuck here, and likely to be killed if the Stormtroopers found him dead on the pillow next to you, but there was nothing else you could do but try.

               Slowly, almost without even realizing what you’re doing, you hold your hand out towards the crack, just beneath where the mite had been crawling. You realize that it could just bite you and leave Kole alone, but at this rate, death was almost preferable to whatever else he had in store for you.

               You release a slow breath as the mite crawls back towards you. It circles your hand tentatively for a moment before you feel it brush against your fingertips. Suddenly it starts crawling on the back of your hand, upside down, and you’re almost surprised that you suppress your impulse to jump. You keep your breathing steady as you slowly pull your hand back towards you, feeling the mite crawl down past your elbow to your wrist before crawling back again.

               The good news is it seems interested in exploring more than it does in you, and you keep your breath level as you slowly roll back over onto your back, aware that any sudden movements could cause it to bite down at any time.

               As you do, you can feel it climb up your arm towards your armpit, and you know that there’s no way that you can possibly get it onto Kole if it begins crawling around your body. Still, you keep yourself composed, and as it begins to crawl back down your arm, you place your hand on the blanket, sliding it over right next to where Kole was sleeping, but making sure not to touch him directly.

               _Come on._

               You move your lips but are careful to make sure that no sound comes out. Agonizingly slowly, the mite makes its way in slow circles down your arms. It crawls around the back of your hand for a few moments longer and you’re debating on whether or not you should just take the risk and try to brush it off when you suddenly feel its tiny feet stop moving against your skin. You pull your hand away to see it running around the sheets for a moment.

               You can see a wrinkle in the sheet that it looks like it’s going to avoid, and so you quickly do your best to smooth the sheet flat without causing it to crawl back towards you. It seems confused for a moment, scurrying back around in circles, before it finally makes it way down the sheet and over to Kole. It crawls up the side of his leg, and you hold your breath as it crawls onto his thigh.

               But it doesn’t bite down. It just seems interested in exploring as it crawls back and forth over his skin, as if trying to find out what it wants to do or where it wants to go.

               The sound of the slap reaches your ears before you see it.

               Kole slaps the mite, squishing it against its thigh. You’re not sure if the mite bit him or he just felt it crawling around, but he doesn’t seem to wake up as he adjusts his position and rolls over to the other side of his body.

               And that was that. Your one chance, your only opportunity to escape, was gone. Kole had you captured, and you were going to have to find some other way to escape and survive. You were going to have to try to use your resources to your advantage, and maybe if you were lucky, then-

               You suppress the gasp in your throat as you see a mite crawling along the outside of your calf, with three more next to it. You feel something slither around your wrist, and you suddenly realize that the bed was crawling with mites. You had forgotten that when a mite is killed, its blood releases a pheromone to alert the others of danger. Danger also usually meant _food_ , and you hadn’t been wrong when you remembered how mites usually travelled together.

               Suddenly you can feel mites scampering across your naked body. You close your eyes as you push yourself back into the pillow and will yourself not to move. You take slow, steadying breaths in and out through your nostrils. They hadn’t bitten you, yet, and maybe if you were lucky, they wouldn’t. Maybe if you stayed composed and didn’t get alarmed, didn’t hurt any of them, they would crawl past you and towards Kole instead.

               Fortunately, that looked exactly like what they were doing. You don’t turn your head to look, but you can feel millions of tiny legs scampering across your body. You can hear the swift motion of their feet crawling across the sheets, and you continue to try to make your breathing as unaffected as possible.

               Kole suddenly gives a start beside you. The bed jerks with his reaction, but you do your best to remain composed and not respond to it.

               “What the _fuck-_?”

               Kole throws himself off the bed and you can hear the sound of him slapping at the mites crawling across his body.

               “What is this?” he demands. “Did you do this?”

               You don’t open your eyes. You don’t look at him. You can feel the mites starting to crawl away from you, and you don’t want to risk upsetting the mites that were still around you.

               “Are you even _fucking alive_?”

               You don’t answer him. You press your lips together to suppress a smirk, but if Kole notices, he doesn’t pay attention to it. If anything, you hear something loud and heavy drop to the floor at the foot of the bed.

               “What is happening to me?”

               The paralysis was finally kicking in. Considering how many times he had been bitten, you were surprised that it had taken minutes; with smaller creatures and children, it was usually instantaneous. You can hear Kole scratching at the floor, trying to get back up, but once he was down, you knew that he would never get up again.

               The poison of a mite such as this worked its way through your bloodstream fairly quickly. One would begin to feel hot all over, their fingers and extremities twitching uselessly as they tried to figure out what was wrong. Next would be the heart. It would pump faster, the mites’ venom subtly tricking the body into spreading it to every area of the body as fast as possible, making amputation of a bite useless.

               Then would begin the slow disintegration of every organ that it passed through. It would erode his weaker organs first before they finally got around to infecting the brain, destroying it from the inside out.

               You could hear Kole’s labored breaths on the floor, but you don’t open your eyes to look. You aren’t sure if there are any mites still around you, but you don’t check. You just lie there with your one hand and ankles shackled and listen to his slow inhales of air.

               Your mother had once told you that it was one of the slowest and most painful deaths that could happen to a person. You don’t know how long you laid on the bed, listening to Kole Praxton draw in his final breaths, but it felt like hours.

               And hours and hours and hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cause this was a rough chapter, I included an unreleased scene from earlier in the story for humor:  
> “Hey, Snap?”  
> “Yeah, Poe?”  
> “You just…you think a princess, and a guy like me…?”  
> “Stop it, Poe.”


	33. Chapter 33

               You pulled uselessly at the chains again, but they only resounded with a faint clink. You were too tired to move your arms, too tired to lift your head. You had since run out of water and you still had not come any closer to loosening the restraints around your arms. You were surprised that no Stormtroopers had tried to enter your room yet, but you had a feeling that Kole had told them that he was _not_ to be disturbed.

               The small shiver that racks your body shows that you were still alive, although you honestly couldn’t be sure just how much that you really wanted to be. There was no way out of this for you. Once the door opened and those Stormtroopers walked through, they would see Kole’s lifeless body on the floor. Whether they knew you had something to do with it or not, they would take it out on you regardless, and then that would be the end of your journey, just like that.

               What was Poe doing right now? Did he realize you hadn’t made it to the Outer Rim yet? Was he caught up in trouble of his own? And how were Joran and the others fairing? Had they been trying to make the most of their captivity or had they already been executed? You doubted that they would without orders from Kole, but at the same time, you couldn’t be sure.

               You hoped more than anything that at least Joran would make it out. He knew the people of Draboon and true, while he hadn’t been there through the worst of the First Order occupation, at least he knew what the Resistance was like. If anyone would be able to bridge a gap between them, it would be him. There was no one else who could do it. At least he would be able to pass along your story, of the princess who had tried to return to save her people, only to prove to weak to defend herself.

               You tried to reason with yourself, tried to tell yourself that this disappointment that you were feeling was normal, but it was hard to really feel too much of anything. Maybe it was the dehydration or the stress, but you were starting to come to terms with the fact that you were going to die here. No one was going to come looking for you. No one knew where you were, and by the time they did, it would be too late to save you. No, the sooner you accepted the fact that you were going to die, the less painful it was probably going to be. You just had to shut your eyes and fade off into a deep sleep and hopefully, if you were lucky, you just wouldn’t wake up.

               Eventually you hover on the fragile border between sleeping and waking for what feels like hours, maybe days for all you knew, until you suddenly became aware of some sudden sound coming from close by. You couldn’t be sure where, and there wasn’t much you could really do about it anyway. Instead, you just lay there, eyes closed, waiting for the worst to come.

               And the worst did come. The door opened and four Storm troopers walked through, all carrying their weapons. You close your eyes quickly and force your breathing to remain steady, hoping that maybe they thought that you were dead as well.

               “Holy fuck.” One of the voices sounds familiar, too familiar, even through the muffled distortion of the helmet.

               “Mites,” one confirms. “Everyone stay back. Stay away from him.”

               “What about her?” The familiar voice sounds almost frantic. “Is she dead too?”

               “Oh she better be,” another voice says, his voice becoming more clear as he removes his helmet. “Or she’s going to kill us when she realizes that we’re staring at her naked.”

               _Grax._

“I’ll kill you later.”

               Your voice sounds weaker than you thought it would, and you can see all of them jump in alarm as you open your eyes.

               “Okay, listen to me, very closely. He probably has the keys to unlock me somewhere in the room. Find them. Release me. Then get me water. Be very careful. Stay away from any white little specs that you see. Those are mite larvae. If they bite you, they _will_ kill you.”

               But even as you’re talking, they’re already moving. Champ rolls around the room, occasionally welding cracks in the floor shut. Tik, Tok, and Grax are moving around the room as they search for the key, while Joran is quick to get you water from the adjacent bathroom. You sip it slowly, trying to remain calm. In truth, you did feel calm. A part of you thought that you were already dead.

               A part of you wasn’t sure if you already were.

               “Are you okay?” Joran asks quietly, but you don’t answer him as you just stared at the rim of your cup. _Okay_ was a relative term. _Okay_ was something you should figure out later.

               “Let’s stick to the basics,” you tell him. “How did you escape? How did you find me? How do you plan on getting out of here?” Joran hopes his mouth to speak, but you’re not finished. “And my brain still feels really foggy so short sentences, please.”

               Instead, Grax is the one to answer. “We killed people. We killed more people. Then we’ll, uh, let me think, kill more people.”

               You tilt your head to the side in consideration. “You might need to kill someone else. I’m going to need that armor. And a weapon.”

               “Found it,” Tok calls, and at first you think he’s talking about armor before he pulls out a key hidden behind the nightstand. It figures Kole would keep it close by in case he wanted to release you, but just out of sight.

               Tok passes the key off to Joran who begins to unlock you while everyone else shuffles awkwardly around the room, trying to look everywhere but at you.

               “No one tells anyone about this,” you tell them. “What you saw here never leaves this room. Is that understood?”

               “Yup.”

               “Yes.”

               “You got it.”

               “Okay, boss.”

               _I saw nothing._

               “Good,” you say with some finality. Joran finishes unlocking your ankles and you quickly pull yourself in a seated position. From beside you, you can hear Joran warning you not to get up too fast, but you almost don’t hear him over the throbbing in your wrists and ankles. That was going to leave a _very_ nasty bruise, and you were hoping that it wouldn’t leave a permanent indentation in your skin.

               Slowly, you get to your feet, sensing that Joran is hovering way too close. Suddenly, you realize why, as your knees buckle and you end up sitting back down on the bed without even realizing that you had sat back down.

               “You’re very weak right now,” Joran says gently. “I know we need to move, but you need to take some time-”

               “Haven’t got time,” you say as you quickly get to your feet again. You bounce on your toes a few times, trying to work the feelings back into your legs. You realize everyone is looking at you and then quickly looking away again, but you don’t have the time or the patience to try to preserve your modesty right now.

               Instead, you come around the side of the bed to see Kole lying on his side. He’s lying in a small puddle of blood, with tiny mites lying in little clusters all around him from where he had slapped them away. His eyes were open and bloodshot. A thick crimson trail of bloody sludge ran from his nose and coated his upper lip.

               “Bastard,” you mutter, while everyone else waits in respectful silence. _“Bastard!”_

               Without even realizing what you’re doing, you lean forward as you kick his stomach in as hard as you can. It hurts your foot, but you keep kicking and kicking. Eventually a few mites crawl out of his nose and his open mouth, awakened from their feeding frenzy to see what all the commotion was all about, and this finally repulses you enough to let Joran draw you away.

               “Go,” you say quickly as you turn to Champ, Grax, Tik, and Tok. “Go find me a suit, some armor, a weapon. Anything, and go quickly. Come back here when you’re done.”

               “Roger that,” Grax grunts, sliding the helmet over his head as he turns around. “Okay fellas, you heard the lady. One suit of armor, coming on up.”

               You wait until the door is shut firmly behind them before you turn back to Joran. He looks like he’s about to express his concern, but you don’t even give him the chance. “Grax looks like he’s stepping up to be quite a leader, isn’t he? He the reason you all managed to escape?”

               “Yeah, uh, yeah,” Joran replies, the surprise written across his features. “Yeah, he managed to trick a couple of Stormtroopers and we got out as fast as we could.”

               “He’s smart,” you say simply, glancing back towards the door before you turn to the bathroom. “I’m going to rinse off. Stay close, but watch the door.”

               “Are you sure you’re okay, Your Majesty?” Joran asks quietly, but you just shake your head.

               “If I am, if I’m not, it doesn’t matter. I just have to keep going. We need to get through this. Kole’s dead and if we can kill every single Stormtrooper here, every First Order officer, we might be able to take back the planet. And I’m not going to stop until that happens or I’m dead. It’s one or the other.”

               Joran looks like he wants to say something more before he backs down. “We’re here to help,” he says at length. “We’re going to do it. Don’t worry. We’re here now. We won’t lose our home again.”

               You just nod as you quickly step into the bathroom and turn the water of the shower on overhead. You had to scrub this all off. What Kole had done to you, the mites crawling all over you, the image of Kole dead on the floor, with mites crawling in and out of his open mouth, you tried to get every speck of it off your person, but no matter what you did, you couldn’t scrub yourself clean. Honestly, you almost doubted you would ever be able to become that clean again.

               You hear the door open, and you quickly step out of the shower and towel yourself down as you step outside again, making sure to tie the towel around your chest to preserve your last shred of modesty. They had already seen you naked; you didn’t need them to see you wet and naked as well.

               “Got some nice armor for you,” Grax says, laying out the armor on the bed. “Try it on, let’s see how it fits.”

               You let out a small snort of amusement as you look it over. You were going to disguise yourself as a Stormtrooper. When you had read about them in the history books, you had always wondered what it was like to be just a nameless soldier under that uniform white armor. Now at least you were going to find out.

               “Okay,” you say as you begin to get dressed. “So first we get me locked and loaded, but then what do we do next?”

               “Oh, don’t you worry about that, Your Majesty,” Grax replies as he cracks a toothy grin. “I’ve got a plan.”

* * *

               “I hate to tell you, Grax, but this is a pretty stupid plan,” you grunt as you squat further in your little semi-circle. You’re all hidden behind a thick brush of foliage in the middle of the courtyard. It was clear the First Order hadn’t cared much for upkeep, and the garden was in a very sad state of overgrown thorns and bramble.

               “You didn’t have any qualms about it at the time,” Grax points out, but you just shake your head.

               “Because I was really out of it when you first told me,” you admit. “Somehow I don’t think we’re going to take back my home planet with these.” You throw a blue cloth flag in his face, and Grax quickly brushes it away.

               “It was meant to be a sign,” Joran reminds you. “When the Queen returns, we raise the flag. Well, since we can’t raise it, we’ll lower them down with ropes instead. People will see them, climb up, and join the fight to take back the castle.”

               “Assuming they have the weapons to do so,” you point out.

               “Well that’s where we come in,” Grax tells you. “Remember, we’ve already taken out a fair amount of guards. We just distribute their blasters and hope these miners are good shots.”

               “Or that they don’t shoot us,” you point out. “Like, you guys all get credit for creativity, but I still don’t know if this is going to work.”

               Grax snorts under his breath. “Okay then, Your Majesty, great ruler of us all, what amazing plan do you have hidden up your sleeves?”

               You consider him for a long moment before you shake your head in defeat. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing. But whatever we’re doing, we need to move quickly, before they realize that Kole is dead and put the whole city on alert.”

               “I told you, they’re not going to find him,” Tok says as he and Tik exchange a glance, and you can’t help but sigh. You honestly didn’t want to know what they did with him. You preferred that they would have set him on fire and threw his body out a window into the moat that ran along the western edge of the castle, but right now, that would run the risk of drawing too much attention than you needed.

               “To be honest, I sort of underestimated the guards that they would have had here,” Joran says as he looks up at you. “I figured that the planet would be crawling with Stormtroopers, but they only have three separate outposts set up around the perimeter to the jungle and then the rest of them are here at the castle. It doesn’t look like there are more than a few hundred to contend with.”

               “The First Order’s been stationed here so long without a threat to their authority that they probably don’t think this planet’s worth the resources,” you admit. “Which, you know, can be good, could be bad. It means less numbers now, but it also may mean they’ll send greater numbers to take it back in the future.”

               “Unless the Resistance manages to keep them occupied,” Grax points out. “If they keep their attention directed elsewhere, they may not think the planet was worth the bother.”

               “You have a point,” you agree. “Kole seemed interested in me, specifically, and probably used his clout with the First Order to easily secure his position here without much contest, but I don’t know how much it’s worth to the First Order. Considering how few troops they have stationed here, if they lose it, they might not bother going through the trouble of trying to get it back if they think we’re going to put up enough of a fight.”

               “Or they could always glass us from orbit,” Tik points out, and you’re all silent for a moment as you turn to stare at him. “What?”

               “Let’s opt for the first idea,” you tell him. “At least for right now. First we have to worry about taking back the planet to worry about what we’re going to do next.”

               “We’re only four people,” Grax reminds you. “But you have an entire planet that’s willing to fight for their queen.”

               “That’s the hope,” you say as you glance back at Joran, who nods.

               “I’m telling you, they’ll fight,” Joran says. “Remember, you weren’t raised here like I was. We were always taught to be loyal to our Queen, without question, and if the First Order occupation here is as bad as it looks, they’ll be desperate to have you back.”

               “Only one way to find out.” You take a deep breath as you glance at them in turn. “Okay, then, this is the plan. We each sneak off to a section of the castle and distribute the flags. Make sure to lower them with rope and tie the ropes _securely_ to something on the inside so they can climb. Hopefully some will help us take the castle back, and the others will raid the outposts until we can get there and do it ourselves.”

               “Okay,” Tik says. “And then what?”

               “Then.” You let your shoulders rise and drop. “Then we wipe out every last Storm trooper here. We take no prisoners; we can’t risk one of them escaping or finding some way to report back to the First Order that we’ve taken control of the planet before we’re ready to cope with an invasion, if one occurs.”

               “Just the way I like it,” Grax says with a grin. “Okay, then, Your Majesty, since this is your castle, how do you want to split up?”

               “I think I should go to the village,” Joran says suddenly. “I’m familiar with the people. I can let them know you’re back and point some people this way, and try to organize things against their outposts.”

               “That’s a smart plan,” you agree. “Just be careful. And take Champ with you.” You turn back to the rest of them. “Okay, me and Grax? Tik and Tok? That work for everyone?”

               “Yeah,” Tok says as he nods his head forward. “Although this castle is a big place. What if we get, uh, lost?”

               You can’t help but laugh under your breath. “Then find the nearest Storm trooper, ask for directions, and bash his head in.”

               They all turn to look at you, their faces a mixture of shock and alarm. “This is my home,” you remind them. “And I’ve been lost for too long. My people have been lost for too long. That’s not going to happen again, not on my watch.”

               “Your Majesty,” Joran says as he stoops his head, and the rest nod in agreement.

               “All right team,” you say as you get to your feet. “Let’s go take back my home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a shorter chapter today, because I'm sure you can guess what's going to happen in the next one. Will they be able to save Draboon? Will friends be cut down in the crossfire? I guess you'll just have to wait and see!! Until next week, cheers!!


	34. Chapter 34

               “Joran, Champ, what’s your progress?” Grax whispers into his comlink.

               You can faintly hear a series of beeps as Grax holds the comlink to his ear, but he shakes his head as he hands the comlink to you.

               “Here, Your Majesty, my Droid is about as good as my Gundark. I have no idea what the little guy is saying.”

               You pick up the comlink. “What was that, Champ?”

               _Joran has made contact with what’s left of the_ Arm-take _._ Arm-dust _. Never mind. I can’t say it. Let’s just call it what it is, the local Resistance._

               You puzzle over the word for a moment. “You mean the Armata?”

 _Precisely,_ Champ replies. _Unfortunately my firmware is much too old to string together custom words like that. The point is, Grax was right about the fleet. They don’t really seem to guard it that heavily. They take it for granted that the people are beaten down and won’t try anything. If I could find a network port, I might be able to cause some trouble. Could Draboon’s fleet be controlled remotely?_

“I’m not entirely sure, Champ. A lot has changed since I left, but it might be.”

               _All right, if I can’t, I can try to find a way to create another distraction and get the Stormtroopers out of the castle so you two have more of a chance. You’ll know once I’ve found my weapon of choice. Champ out._

               You look up at Grax, who is patiently waiting for the translation. It _was_ his plan, after all.

               “Joran has found the Armata, and Champ is going to hack a ship or otherwise cause a big distraction. We’ll know it when we see it.”

               “Perfect,” Grax replies as he holds out his hand. “Here, I’ll check in on the other two.”

               You give the comlink back to Grax, and he switches it to a new channel.

               “Tik, Tok, how goes the clock?”

               “Twenty minutes to midnight.”

               “That’s what I like to hear,” Grax says with a snort of satisfaction. “Let me know once you’ve got the midnight taxi loaded and ready, and I’ll clear the skies for you. Don’t forget to collect the fare when you pick me up.”

               “Roger,” Tok replies. “The charge will be nine hundred galactic credits to low orbit. Driver Seven-Two-Eight-Nine out.”

               You turn to Grax with a little confusion as he lets out a low whistle.

               “Code?” you ask blankly. “The plan hasn’t changed, has it?”

               “No, it hasn’t Your Majesty, but you can never be too careful with Stormtrooper helmets. Never know who might be listening in, even on a encrypted channel. I’m actually surprised Tik caught on so quickly. But damn, nine hundred tons of explosive? I have no idea how they’re sneaking that much out of the mining warehouse. However they’re doing it, that’s going to make a nice dent in that battlecruiser up there. Looks like things are going smoothly enough out there. We should make our way to the command center. According to the chatter, it seems to be in the old security force office. Still remember the way?”

               You nod as you put your helmet back on and check around the corner. Seeing the hallway is clear, you motion for Grax to follow you.

               The last time you had worn armor like this was when you had been meeting Kole, but at least then you were at least slightly safe in the knowledge that Poe wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Now you couldn’t be sure, and you definitely couldn’t be sure that you were going to be able to fight and protect yourself if you had to. Stormtrooper armor pinched in all the wrong places, especially in the elbows, and it didn’t breathe anywhere near as well as the Mandalorian armor it was based on. How Stormtroopers managed to get _anything_ done in such cumbersome armor was beyond you.

               You and Grax walk down the hallways as nonchalantly as possible. If anyone were to spot you, you hoped they would just see another Stormtrooper duo on patrol; nothing out of the ordinary there.

               You turn to Grax as a sudden thought strikes you. “So I get that we take over the city from the command center once the others make their move, but, how? We’re just going to walk in and then they surrender?”

               “Something like that.” Grax just trudges on down the hallway, but you couldn’t let this go. _You_ were Queen. It was _your_ job to know what was going on and adjust the plan accordingly.

               “No, really,” you insist. “I’m feeling more and more exposed in this plastic deathtrap I’m wearing. I just want to know you have a plan that doesn’t involve me getting shot as soon as the door opens.”

               “Nope,” Grax replies simply. “Just do what you do best and they’ll never see me coming.”

               “What-?” You gasp as Grax suddenly disappears from view, though you could still see the impressions of his boots in the carpet. After a quick moment, he returns to being visible.

You open and shut your jaw in shock. “How did you just do that?”

               “Rezla. He must have had a feeling about the Battle of D’Qar, since I found his ghost rig stashed in my crate afterwards. You just do the talking, and I’ll take care of everyone else. You’ve certainly talked your way out of worse.”

               Had you? Maybe on D’Qar, or elsewhere in the galaxy, but certainly not on Draboon. The girl who had grown up on this planet was so far removed from who you were now that you couldn’t be sure that you were even the same person.

               “We’ll just see about that,” you reply under your breath. “With any luck, I won’t actually have to do any talking.”

               Grax shakes his head. “I can make luck out of bad times, but not that much luck. Actually, I’ll help you out, give you a starting point.” Grax pulls a small vial from his belt and pours a small amount of the contents into your helmet’s neck seal. After a few seconds, you pick up the acrid odor of alcohol through the helmet.

               “I don’t see how this helps.”

               “This will help disguise the fact that you know _nothing_ about First Order military protocols. If you’re a bored Stormtrooper drunk on duty, you can pretty much say whatever you want without raising too much alarm. Play it up, Your Majesty.”

               You can’t help but roll your eyes. If only your mother could see you now, walking down the castle corridors while pretending to be a drunk Stormtrooper. You had no idea what she’d say, and it wasn’t something you wanted to dwell on, especially now.

               You spot the door to the security room ahead and motion for Grax to slow down. “We’re almost there. Are they ready?”

               Grax puts two fingers to his helmet as he checks in with Champ. You suppress the urge to laugh as Champ replies, _Get on with it, we don’t have all day here. It’s not every day I get to blow some stuff up._

               “No translation needed here, Your Majesty. You’re up. One condition I have: I get to kill the colonel.” You have no idea if the colonel had done something to offend him while he was a prisoner in the dungeon, but you just nod as Grax gives you a quick salute. He disappears from view as his boot prints lead off the edge of the carpet to the strip of stone along the wall.

               You make your way to the door and press the latch to open it. Inside are a few dozen people, a few milling about, but most seated at what looked like surveillance panels. There are a few Stormtroopers and several armored officers and technicians. A grey-uniformed officer seems to be the only one to notice you and moves to intercept you at the door. Grax had to be able to get past you, so you quickly move to get inside the door and make a show of leaning against a console inside the room. The officer stops in front of you and draws himself up to full height.

               “You’re out of bounds, trooper. What’s your unit designation?”

               You shake your head in an irregular pattern, as if you were going to be sick, then blurt out, “DL-four-four-eight-seven, sir.”

               The officer checks the number on his datapad and makes a small ticking sound in the back of his throat.

               “Still sentimental, I see. That’s strictly against regulations, GM-seven-eight-three-two. That unit was killed in action two weeks ago. I’ll have to add that to your record.” He pauses and makes a dramatic sniffing sound, bending down to come face-to-face with you. You were glad the helmet hid your expression. “What’s this? Drunk on duty? That explains quite a lot. The luxury of this world has made you soft, trooper. Sergeant!”

               A black-pauldroned stormtrooper saunters up to the officer’s side, and suddenly you almost _wish_ you were drunk so you wouldn’t be aware of how nervous you were. “Sir?”

               “This trooper is absent from her post without authorization, drunk on duty, and in continuing violation of regulation one-one-eight-five-nine. Send her to reconditioning.”

               “Yes, sir. Come along.” The sergeant pulls out a pair of cuffs and is about to clap them on you when someone comes sprinting into the room and heads straight for the blue-uniformed man in the middle. The grey-uniformed officer and the Stormtrooper sergeant turn to see the commotion, and after a brief animated whispered exchange, the man in blue nods his head and walks over to where you were standing.

               “Lieutenant, Sergeant, what seems to be the problem here?”

               The grey-uniformed man snaps to attention. “Just a minor disciplinary issue, Colonel. We’re handling the issue.”

               “That will have to wait, gentlemen, come with me. Stand at attention, trooper. Your discipline still stands and Sergeant Hyrel will deal with you as he sees fit.” You snap into the position of attention, and make sure to sway in place a little, drawing a sharp glare from the lieutenant as he looks over his shoulder. You can barely hear their conversation from a few steps away.

               “...savage, nothing like what we’ve seen before. There were nothing but bones left, and even …… reported missing.”

               “Sir, I think a naked woman would stand out rather readily here. We’ll find her in no time.

               _...what?_

               You flinch as you hear the _crack_ of the colonel slapping the lieutenant.

               “This is no laughing matter, Lieutenant. The Governor is dead of this world’s poisonous scourge, and we no longer have our hostage. Effective immediately, I am assuming the interim governorship and you will conduct a sweep of the city. Quietly. Now that the mites have feasted, more are coming. Have all troopers stand by for a swarm. These things happen in waves, and I’d rather the Governor be the last of the casualties.”

               The three men silently nod to each other, then disperse. The Stormtrooper sergeant heads back in your direction. _Hurry up, Champ_ , you think to yourself as the sergeant gets closer. As he comes face-to-face with you and removes the cuffs from his belt once again, alarms begin to go off across the room and technicians begin shouting over one another.

               “Royal fighters out of impound, dispatching the squadron!”

               “Battle stations called at posts three, seven, ten , nine, five, correction - all posts assuming battle stations. Code Red. The natives are rebelling. Deploying garrisons one through three!”

               “What the-? Sir, we have reports of _monsters_ coming out of the jungle. There’s nothing left of Depot Three. Posts seven and eight are calling for armored support.”

               “Mite swarms in barracks three and four!”

               As each report comes in, the colonel becomes visibly more and more agitated, until he steps up onto the command platform next to the holographic map of the city.

               “Quiet! I will have order in the command center. Ground command, deploy all garrisons. Full-scale response, hold nothing in reserve. If the natives want to make a show of force, we’ll respond in kind. Send armor battalions one through four to reinforce the north against these supposed _monsters_ , and send battalions five and six to the south. Deploy _all_ TIE fighters, and prepare the bombers to respond to the work camps. These rebels will pay dearly for their insubordination. Surveillance, report the status of the rebel force.”

               A technician stands up as he scratches his head, clearly bewildered at what he’s seeing.

               “Sir, they’re wearing chemical gear. Goggles, wet facemasks, and an unusual form of clothing. Do they know something we don’t?”

               “We can’t afford to risk it. Issue a full lockdown of the castle. Nothing gets in. If they’re using chemical agents, they won’t be using them here. Have all troops inject a round of antidote. Mites in the barracks can only mean a full-scale swarm.”

               You stand at attention, taking it all in. Perhaps the First Order was not quite as clueless about the mites as you had initially thought, although their overconfidence would spell certain death for their troops. What they didn’t know was that the antidote to mite venom made you temporarily _more_ vulnerable to its effects. Now you couldn’t help but let your shoulders shake as you laugh at their self-inflicted doom. Luckily, the red strobes and blaring klaxons of the castle lockdown hid your amusement.

               Another technician stood up. “Colonel, all remote units are ready for injection on your command. Wait. We just lost barracks three. Mites are swarming throughout the city. There are reports that they’re chasing a probe droid.”

You had no idea what Champ was doing out there, but if he had remotely taken control of a probe droid in order to lead the mites to where they needed to go, then you could only be glad he insisted on coming along.

               “No time to waste, specialist, this is clearly no random swarm. Deploy the antidote.”

               The technician nods and presses a button on his console. A few seconds later, Grax appears in the middle of the room with his helmet off, saluting with a three-eyed Gran smile.

               “What the-?” All around the room, people reach for their weapons, but they collapse before they have time to draw them. Within seconds, several are convulsing, leaving the colonel and a few technicians huddled and scared in the middle of the room, unsure of what was happening.

               “Who are you?”

               “Draboon’s newest rebel citizen, here to save my queen. Grax the Ghost is the name, pain is my game. What’s your problem? Don’t like needles? Any specific reason why you’re not wearing antidote injector kits? Kinda tough to kill you with mite venom if you’re not wearing it. I can come up with some other painful alternatives needle-free if you’d like.”

               The colonel looks around at the people showing the telltale signs of mite venom poisoning and just opens and closes his jaw in shock. “I don’t understand.”

               Grax chuckles before answering. “I’ll tell you, but only because I’m going to kill you either way. Funny thing, Draboonian mites. Mix their venom with the antidote, and it makes it even more powerful.” In perfect dramatic timing, the final victim stops convulsing and goes limp in the corner.

  
               “Of course, you never bothered to learn how to use the antidote properly. Even those creatures your men call _monsters_ know how to use it. Typical First Order, taking resources, confiscating them for your needs, never bothering to fully understand any ramifications you might have. Speaking of, I thought I recognized your slimy face, Colonel Hagen. It’s been a long time since that night on Malastare. I never thought First Order blue would suit you so well, _Salac_. How the hell did you weasel your way into a cushy job like this? I promised Aretinsa you would die screaming after what you did to her family all those years ago, and I intend to keep that promise.”

               The colonel spits at Grax’s feet and Grax throws two sets of cuffs at the technicians. “Cuff the colonel to the panels. One hand per corner. You, man the comms. You work for me now, or you’ll share in the colonel’s fate. The rest of you, sit quietly in the corner. If you behave, I might just keep you as pets. Your Majesty, a little help please.”

               Grax wasn’t just welcome on your planet. Hell, for all his planning, you were going to find some way to give him a promotion.

               The colonel gasps as you take off your helmet to reveal that you had been the Queen of Draboon standing there all along. You pick up your blaster rifle and beckon for the technicians to do as Grax said. Two of the technicians slam him against the panel as he protested, and the third cuffed his hands to the studs in the corners.

               Grax pulls a canister from his belt, and slides a cylindrical cage from it. Inside is what looked like a small snake, fiercely hissing and snapping against the mesh of the cage. One of the technicians’ eyes go wide at the sight, and he scurries away, warning his friends. “Kodashi, get away! Get away!”

               Grax glares at the one technician. “Get out of that corner and man your station, specialist. Inform the _Inviolate_ that there is a rebellion underway and we request air support to suppress it. Also instruct them to train the turbolasers to intercept all craft outbound from the planet’s surface. We have nine hundred tons of explosive missing, and we wouldn’t want anything to happen to our overwatch, would we?”

               The technician stutters in the corner, eyes darting between Grax’s grim expression and the caged Kodashi viper in his hand. Grax pulls his blaster pistol and fires at the wall just above the technician’s head. “Now, specialist. I assure you, the viper is quite harmless. Unless you’ve been murdering kids in their sleep like this scum here,” he says as he gives the colonel a swift kick to his shin.

               The technician makes his way to the comm station, and is shaking so badly, he drops his headset several times before finally getting it on.

               “Calm down, specialist. Transmit the message. No funny business, or you know what will happen.”

               The technician looks up at the caged viper again, gulps loudly, then keys into the comm system.

               “ _Inviolate_ Bridge, Arceus Command. We have a code red. Repeat, code red. Full-scale insurrection. Governor is indisposed, command has transferred to Colonel Hagen. Request air wing support to regain air dominance, stand by for turbolaser interception. A large amount of ordinance is unaccounted for and suspected outbound. Destroy all outbound airborne targets with total prejudice. Arceus capital is overrun with native life, advise when wing is en route.”

               The technician looks back up at the viper in Grax’s hand and shudders as the _Inviolate_ responds.

               “We read you, Arceus. Coming to broadside course. All hands to battle stations. TIE wing being deployed. Advise safe landing zone for troop support.”

               “Negative, _Inviolate_ , the city is overrun with mites. Antidote is ineffective. Troop response is detrimental at this time. Native giant quadrapeds emerging from jungle are impervious to laserfire and capable of accurate ballistic reckoning. Troop boats and walker drops will not survive the trip.”

               You had almost forgotten that Draboon’s elephants were sometimes seen playing a rudimentary game of ranged accuracy. You had no idea they would be this instrumental in the defense of the planet, however. On one screen, you watch as they turn over a medium combat walker, shrugging off incoming blaster fire as if they didn’t even feel it. They crush the walker underfoot as the scattering pilots were overcome by mite swarms, and you watch as the elephant turns around and hurls a piece of the wreckage into a TIE fighter overhead. On another screen, you saw a trio of them form a defensive wall for Draboon’s citizens to escape a battalion of Stormtroopers.

               Clearly, once this was over, you would going to have to give them a greater role in Draboon’s society.

               On the holomap in the center of the room, you see a squadron of five cargo ships rise out of Forzin’s Scar, headed nearly straight up towards the battlecruiser high overhead. Four TIE fighters engage the cargo ships, only to be taken out by the swirling debris enveloping the five ships. Over the comms, you hear the _Inviolate_ request confirmation of a valid target. The technician looks up at Grax, who just nods his assent.

               “That craft is not authorized, _Inviolate_. Open fire.”

               You weren’t sure if this part of the plan would work, but it seemed to be playing out flawlessly. On the holomap, you watch as turbolaser bolt after turbolaser bolt streaks down towards the cargo ships, each shot blasting away just a little more of the swirling debris cloud, until a shot finally connected with the center ship, causing the whole squadron to explode in a chain reaction. These were just remote decoys, however, loaded with charged lapis fragments that blossomed out into a crackling cloud that hung over the entire city. You watched with pride as the artificial lapis storm expanded outward ever so slowly, destroying the entire incoming wing of TIE fighters before the sensors shorted out and the map went dark.

               You hear a gulp to your left, and turn to see Grax now approaching the colonel with the viper cage in hand. Now that air superiority and sensor function were denied to the First Order, the colonel had outlived his usefulness. To your right, the technician is crouching down and occasionally peeking over the panel at Grax. The colonel looks up at you as if to plead mercy, and you remind yourself that this man was scum who showed no remorse in destroying the most vulnerable of society in the name of the First Order. As Queen, this would be your first act of justice. What you did here would set the tone for the rest of your rule. You draw yourself up to your full height and take your place next to Grax.

               “Colonel Salac Hagen, you stand accused by the Crown and people of Draboon of the crimes of avarice, gross venal mass murder for profit, slavery of sentient races, oppression of a sovereign people, and aiding and abetting the unlawful acts of a rogue military faction in violation of the Galactic Concordance and the Resolutions of the Neutral Council. How do you plead?”

               The colonel laughs. “Is this really justice, _Your Majesty_? A token judge and jury of one makes a poor example of justice, no matter how you strive to conceal the petty revenge at its heart.”

               You don’t miss a beat. “If a judgment of your peers is what you seek as your last wish, it shall be granted. Specialists, front and center.” The technician at the comm panel nervously stands up where he is, and the four cowering in the corner come and stand in a line near you, shaking at attention.

               “You have been pardoned of all misdeeds committed under the coercive banner of the First Order, and now I call upon you to pass judgment. This man stands accused of crimes against the Crown and people of Draboon, the Republic, and the Neutral Council. The charges stand as read. How do you find the defendant?”

               The five of them look from your face to the colonel’s, then kneel as one and say, “Guilty, Your Majesty.”

               You’re surprised at their kneeling, but you press on. “Colonel Salac Hagen, you have been found guilty of multiple capital crimes by a jury of your peers. I hereby sentence you to death. Baliff, execute the sentence.”

               “My pleasure, Your Majesty.” Grax applies the cage to Salac’s neck and opens the sliding door.

               You hear a hiss.

               The snake lashes out.

               The scream is like nothing you’ve heard before. You almost want to look away, but you force yourself to watch. Punishments had always been far and few on Draboon, but sometimes it was necessary. And this was definitely necessary.

               Grax closes the cage back up and replaces the snake on his belt. You turn to look at the five technicians.

               “The trial is adjourned. You’re free to go, there’s nothing more you can do here. Whatever you do, do _not_ take extra antidote. As you saw here, taking it now would be deadly. On the next floor up, there is an armored chamber that was once used as a safe room for the royal court. You should be safe there. When the fighting is over, I’ll send for you and we’ll find a place for you as citizens of Draboon, but you are hereby forbidden from leaving the planet. If even one of you tries to warn the First Order of our liberation, anyone with preexisting affiliations to them will be executed with maximum prejudice. Do I make myself understood?”

               The five of them awkwardly bow, and repeat one after the other, “Yes, thank you, Your Majesty,” then scurry out of the room.

               Grax blasts a shot into the empty hallway just after the last person had exited, and you turn back to him incredulously. “You do know I was just bluffing to keep them from talking, right?”

               “I know,” Grax says with a grin. “I was just helping to seal the illusion, that’s all.”

               You look at Grax and try to ignore the continued screaming of the colonel. “Okay, so that part is done. Now what?”

               “This scum is going to take hours to die. When he finally does, I think I might enlist the help of those elephants to strip his skeleton clean. They seem to be handy in weird ways like that. Do you have people able to communicate with them?”

               “Some. They seem to understand broad concepts, but nothing so much as a detailed language.”

               “Good. There’s a lonely widow on Malastare I promised to send a skull to. As for the fighting, now we watch.”

               With the holomap dark, you beckon for Grax to follow you into an adjacent room with a balcony overlooking the majority of the city.

               Grax tries to ping the others and only gets a garbled response from Champ, but can just make out something from Tik and Tok.

               “Go ahead, Grax. We’re close enough to Champ and Joran that we can relay whatever message you need to through the lapis cloud.”

               “Tell them Big Bertha is confirmed blind. That battlecruiser can’t hit a thing with all this lapis dust blowing around.”

               “Roger, we’ll relay the message. Nine hundred tons en route to low orbit.”

               Somewhere below, a sightseeing bus rockets out of a plaza, tipped with a cone of lapis to get it through the cloud. It seemed like there was a high-power engine strapped onto the back to give it the extra boost it needed to make it all the way to the battlecruiser above. You and Grax watch with confidence as it streaked up through the air straight for the battlecruiser. Your heart briefly leapt into your throat as you saw the battlecruiser fire on the bus high in the air, but the shot deflected harmlessly, and you see the unmistakable flash of several hundred tons of mining explosive going off high above. Grax picks up the comlink again.

               “Tik, Tok, I have positive visual on delivery to battlecruiser. Tell the gearheads to get to it.”

               “Roger, boss. This is going to be quite a show.”

               “You’ve got that right. Batter up.”

               In the distance, you see several more cargo ships rise up out of the valley, tethered together to share power between their cores. The carefully choreographed formation carefully sets down in a plaza below, and one repulsor array on the center ship begins to glow white hot as all ships directed all available power to it, cutting a clearly visible channel through the dust above aimed straight at the battlecruiser. The people of Draboon may not have had _real_ weapons or a dedicated fighting force, but they did have a fierce loyalty to one another and tenacious ingenuity in the face of hardship. You watched with pride as they worked together to throw off the shackles of the First Order once and for all, with long lines of people working with a few elephants to pass huge pieces of lapis toward the center ship. There, two elephants waited below the repulsor array being led by a man dressed in tattered rags that were once the uniform of a proud Draboonian merchanteer.

               Minute after minute, you watched as shard after shard is placed in the repulsor’s beam and launched in an endless volley at the battlecruiser. After what seemed like an hour, the man in tattered rags holds up a fist and points up at the battlecruiser. High above, you see meteor-like flame trails of escape pods streaking down through the air as the sharp triangular shape of the battlecruiser shifts into an unclear borderless mass, indicating the ship was breaking up over Draboon. You hear cheering break out in the plaza below, and you hear another nearby voice joining in before you realize it’s your own.

               For all the might of the First Order that Kole proclaimed, your people had defeated it with nothing more than a handful of elephants, mining explosive, and shards of lapis propelled by the indomitable spirit of Draboon. Below, you watch as an escape pod lands in the middle of the plaza. Rather than forming a mob and treating the person inside with violence, you simply see the blue flash of a stun round to subdue him. Someone in the crowd shackles him to the side of the pod and walks away.

               The people of Draboon would not be known for the same brutal violence they were subjected to. After a moment, you become aware that several faces in the plazas below were now upturned toward you, trying to make out the figure on the balcony. Looking around, you find an old, tattered banner with the royal crest carelessly thrown into a corner. You carefully drape it over the rail of the balcony, making sure to secure it against the wind, and hear cheers coming from the city below.

               Suddenly, you hear the colonel’s screams cut short after the unmistakable sound of a blaster shot. You and Grax cautiously draw your blasters as you go to check on the command center, but you breathe a sigh of relief when you find Joran standing in the middle of the room with his blaster drawn.

               “Whatever this man committed, he’s suffered more than enough,” Joran says pointedly. “Have you ever suffered the effects of Kodashi venom before, Grax?”

               “Can’t say I have,” Grax snorts. “I’m alive, aren’t I?”

               “I have,” Joran says stiffly. “Seconds stretch into millenia. This man has suffered more than enough for Draboon’s loss, and now it is time we put the stain of the past behind us and rebuild our home.”

               “That’s fair,” you say as you dip your head forward in agreement. “We will begin Draboon’s rule with an act of mercy, not one of violence.”

               The corner of Joran’s lip quirks upwards in a small smile. Reaching forward with his free hand, he produces your mother’s crown.

               “Your Majesty, it’s time you took your rightful place as Queen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're finally here! After many long chapters, our Reader has finally come home!! But now that she's Queen, how will this affect her relationship with Poe and the rest of the Resistance? Only a few more chapters until the end!!


	35. Chapter 35

_Some time ago..._

  Leia turns away from the monitor she had been studying as she sees the notification warning her of an impending call. Fortunately, she was alone, and she quickly pressed a button on the control panel beside her to seal the entrance to the room. No one could know she was having this conversation, especially not with so much on the line. Her mind was already working through how she was going to scrub the conversation from her databanks as she answered the call.

               “Princess Leia.”

               Leia nods as she puts her hands on her hips, surveying her old friend. “How have you been, Rayda?”

               “Can’t complain, with the galaxy in turmoil once again, business has been good. A lot of people like to drown their sorrows with ebla. Speaking of, I haven’t seen your smuggler or his Wookiee in here in a while. He find another bar I don’t know about?”

               A smirk pulls at Leia’s lips despite herself. “He’s…been busy,” she decides at last. “I’ll see if he won’t drop by soon, okay?” Her face suddenly turns serious. “But that’s not why you called.”

               “No.” Rayda’s face lights up, the face of someone who was expecting a handsome payday, as Leia assured her she would. “No, I found your girl.”

               Leia frowns again as she crossed her arms over her chest. That didn’t surprise her. It was only a matter of when and not if you turned up. “How is she?”

               “She seems okay.” Rayda shrugs half-heartedly. “I’ve seen her type before. It’s clear she’s sick with something.”

               “Sick?”

               “Homesick, lovesick, maybe just tired of the state of affairs these days sick…you know, one of those.”

               “How about all of the above?” Leia asks, and Rayda lets out a small laugh.

               “Either way, she seems fine. A little hungry, a little tired, looks like she’s been in a scrape or two, but who hasn’t these days?” She pauses for a moment and Leia waits for her to continue. “She’s different from the rest, though. Exceptionally polite for someone who calls herself a smuggler. Too stiff, though you can see she’s trying hard not to be. Who is she? What’s so special about this girl, Leia?”

               “She’s not special,” Leia says simply. “Not anymore.” Leia can’t help but smirk to herself.

_And that’s just the way she wants it._

               “Okay,” Rayda pauses for a moment, clearly unaware of the joke. “I almost missed her at first. I thought you said she’d have dark hair. If it wasn’t for that birthmark you pointed out and those lonely eyes, I would have passed her over.”

               Leia pauses for a moment. Dying your hair would have been the first thing you would have done, but she assumed you would have dyed it brown. Some dark shade was needed to overcome the blue, and brown was common enough to let her slip by unnoticed. “What color is it?”

               “Red,” Rayda replies. “Not bright, but bold.”

               Leia shakes her head, but she can’t help but smirk again. Even while hiding you insisted on standing out. It shouldn’t have surprised her in the least.

               “So,” Rayda says in response to Leia’s silence. “I slipped a little something in her second drink to knock her out. It took me over an hour to convince her to take the first one. She’s a cautious one, I’ll give you that, but I always get them in the end, don’t I? I dragged her into a back room and she’s safely locked away from anyone else who might want to get their hands on her. What do you say I wrap her up with a nice pretty bow and you send someone down here to come pick her up?”

               Leia smiles as she shakes her head. “Not this time. That’s not why I wanted you to find her.”

               The surprise in Rayda’s expression is sincere. “What does that mean? You want me to just let her go?”

               Leia crosses her arms over her chest again as she brings herself up to full height. “I want you to give her work.”

               “Work?” Rayda laughs, her surprise slowly morphing into confusion. “Leia, you know the kind of work I do and the business I keep. This girl looks like she’d fall over if the wind blew in the wrong direction.”

               “She’s stronger than she looks,” Leia says forcefully. “And she’s a damned good pilot. She’s had the best tutelage, I can personally vouch for that.”

               “Maybe.” Rayda shrugs, clearly not convinced. “But if she’s such a damned good pilot, why don’t you want her to fight in your Resistance? Aren’t you still looking for me to send pilots your way?”

               “I am,” Leia says firmly. “I am. I need more pilots, make no mistake about that, but this girl needs more experience. She needs to know what the rest of the galaxy is like, and to do that, she needs to learn how to get her hands dirty.”

               Rayda crosses her arms over her chest as she stares Leia down through the holo. “Who is this girl, Leia?”

               Leia shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know, what’s she calling herself?”

               “Captain Iris,” Rayda replies. “Though I’ve seen her ship. It’s barely bigger than she is.”

               “But she has a ship,” Leia points out, jumping at this small piece of information. “What else has she told you?”

               “Not much.” Rayda shrugs. “Looks like she’s just running small cargo deliveries here and there, just domestic stuff.”

 _Good._ The first step to getting by in the galaxy was to figure out what you were good at and exploit it for all you were worth. Poe was a damned good pilot and she knew he wouldn’t let you be anything less than exceptional. Or maybe she wasn’t giving you nearly enough credit. You were good at _talk_ , she knew that already, and you were going to make a fine queen someday if she could figure out how to get you back on that throne.

               “She knows what she’s doing,” Leia says at last. The fact that you had bought yourself a ship and started to work was proof enough of this. “She just needs more real world experience and you can give her that.”

               “I don’t know.” Rayda shakes her head, clearly not convinced. “What if she doesn’t want it?”

               “She’ll want it,” Leia replies simply. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that you would take work if it was offered. “Start her off small and let her work her way up. She’ll earn it, I have no doubt about that.”

               Rayda crosses her arms over her chest. “So that’s why you wanted me to find this girl? Just to give her work?”

               “Don’t worry, she’ll come here when she’s ready,” Leia says simply as she glances at the door behind her. She had already been talking for far too long. “Just keep me updated with how she’s doing.”

               “I have absolutely no idea what you see in this girl,” Rayda says with a shrug. “But you keep the money coming and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

               “As long as you earn it,” Leia says as she switches off the holo.

               She stands there in the empty room for a moment, silently taking in everything she had just learned. You were alive. Queen Lyri would be pleased to hear it, and the best thing that Leia could do to honor her memory was to look after her daughter.

               Not that she didn’t have other motives at play. You _were_ a good pilot, and while she would need you in the upcoming war, you weren’t ready yet. You had been sheltered your entire life, and you needed to know what you were getting into before you joined this fight. The revenge bug would bite you sooner or later, and Leia hoped it would provide you with the drive you needed to make it on your own. Poe had provided your first lessons on how to fly, and now Leia was making sure to continue your education with a hands-on course in survival and galactic education.

               After all, experience was the best teacher, and it seemed you learned best from your mistakes. You were bright, and Leia was sure that once you learned about what other atrocities the First Order was performing elsewhere in the galaxy, you would be quick to come back and join the Resistance once you were ready.

               But, she had to admit to herself, that wasn’t the only reason you’d come back. Rayda had been right on the money when she said that you were at least a little lovesick. She had already learned of your intimate night in the forest with Poe, practically dragging the information out of Snap and Jess during their debriefing. The only thing that surprised her was that it hadn’t happened sooner, but she supposed there had been too many other things at play.

               Poe, to his credit, was at least trying his damned best to act as if everything was okay. Fortunately he was busy trying to track down Lor San Tekka and that occupied much of his time, but Leia could see that same sad look in his eyes every time he had a spare moment to just sit and rest. Leia knew that look well; it was the same one she wore when Han was trapped in carbonite. It was the vexation of knowing that she had to do _something_ without really knowing what it was could be done. At least her patience was rewarded and she had Luke to help her through it. Poe had his droid, but he didn’t even know you were alive.

               And he couldn’t know. It would only serve to distract him, and the more upset he was about losing you, the more focused he would be on putting every last thought into his mission. That was the drive and the focus that Poe needed right now. Maybe after Luke had been found, maybe after Rayda felt you were ready, maybe then she could break the news to him. He wouldn’t take it well, but hopefully he would understand that this was in the best interests of you both, at least for now. The future of the galaxy was bigger than any two people, and you each had your role to play.

               After all, you were the rightful Queen of Draboon. Sure, right now your planet was subject to the First Order’s occupation, but it wouldn’t stay that way forever. Once the Resistance eradicated the First Order from the galaxy, she was going to do everything in her power to make sure that you were back on that throne, hopefully with enough experience in order to make sage decisions concerning Draboon’s future. Queen Lyri had always been focused on Draboon and its neutrality and isolation first and foremost, but Leia hoped that during your travels, you would learn just how vital it was to keep Draboon invested in the affairs of the galaxy as a whole.

               Queen Lyri may have taught you to be a lady, and Poe may have taught you to be a pilot, but Leia knew that your own experiences were going to be the only way you were ever going to learn how to become a Queen. And, with enough time, you would make a damned good one.

               She was almost sure of it.

* * *

               You take a deep breath in and let it out.

               You push your blue hair behind your ears as you adjust yourself on your mother’s throne. It was too big for you, but you did your best to try to make yourself seem as big and imposing as possible. You were the Queen now, and as such, you had to carry the responsibilities of Draboon on your shoulders. You had to make everyone who saw you understand that your loyalty was to your planet, first and foremost.

               That you didn’t really have a problem with. Your people had accepted you back with open arms, and in a way, you were almost thankful that they didn’t outright reject you. You could understand if they did, but maybe that was only because you were more out of touch with the common people than you needed to be. You knew that they had celebrated royalty, but you had no idea how much they invested themselves in it. Much like Joran, they remained loyal to their Queen, to a central figurehead that would protect them and lead them through good or ill.

               You hadn’t done much leading yet, but you had to admit that you were still young, and there were many years ahead of you. The war was not yet over, and even if it did end, there might be another one to take its place, whether or not the Resistance happened to win. You had seen the might of the First Order firsthand, and the people had seen that you refused to be intimidated by it. That was a sign of a leader. That was a sign of someone they could trust.

               But you had also spent a great deal of time at the Resistance, and the citizens of Draboon were quite clear that members of the Resistance were not their friends. In their eyes, the Resistance had promised to protect them no matter what the cost in exchange for their labor and lapis, and then abandoned their end of the bargain once tensions with the First Order arose. You knew it to be more of a complicated affair, but there was nothing you could say to ease their mistrust. They hadn’t been there. They didn’t know certain members of the Resistance like you did, and there was little you could do to ease their concerns. You had tried explaining the benefit of an alliance, but considering how the Resistance had reneged their end of the bargain before, it seemed sage to consider that they might do it a second time.

               “They’re here,” Joran whispers from beside you, and you quickly smooth down the front of your pants as you sit up a little straighter. You had abandoned your mother’s ostentatious wardrobe and adopted your own attire, still brilliantly blue, but one that seemed more fit for a queen who was ready to fight and defend her planet with her last breath.

               “Thank you, Councilor,” you reply as you get to your feet, turning to address the small assembly sitting on one side of the room. The First Order had eliminated your mother’s old Council, but you were quick to form a new one, along with half a dozen citizens that Joran handpicked in order to help increase transparency. The last thing you wanted was for people to doubt that you had anything less than their best intentions at heart.

               “Citizens of our Royal System, I have just received word that a small party of Resistance fighters is here, led by General Organa herself. They are dangerously low on fuel and are seeking safe refuge.”

               You stop talking, waiting for the chorus of voices to die down.

               “As I said, they are _seeking_ safe refuge. I know what the Resistance has done to you. They failed to come to your aid when you needed it the most. You have suffered. Some of you have lost homes, family, children and brothers, to the merciless hand of the First Order. I have allowed them to come to _ask_ for resources, and I would like you all to be present for their appeal.”

               “They’re not welcome here,” a man shouts from the small crowd. “Show them the door. Throw them _out_.”

               “Silence,” you command without any real malice in your voice. “We are not the First Order. We are capable of both forgiveness and mercy, but we will not provide it blindly. We will see what the Resistance has to say and pass judgement from there.”

               This seems to appease them as you turn towards the doors. Tik and Tok had preferred to help restore order in town, but Grax had preferred to stay at home in the castle. He was a leader, he had risked his life for you to return home, and so you saw no reason not to appoint him to Sergeant General of your Security Forces. The position seemed to suit him best, especially considering the way he had handled himself during Draboon’s liberation.

               “Sergeant Grax,” you say as you take a seat back on your throne. “I bid they enter.”

               “Yes, Your Majesty,” he says as he opens up the doors. In the distance, you can see a small militia of a dozen soldiers surrounding them on all sides, walking them forward.

               It was a small group, only about a dozen or so faces among them. They all looked dirty and weary, as though they had been travelling for a while. There were only two that stood out among them that you did not recognize immediately. One was a dark-skinned man that was wearing Poe’s old jacket, looking around at Draboon’s lapis-studded architecture with a clear sense of awe.

               The other person you did not recognize was a girl. She looked a bit cleaner than the rest, although still scraped up and slightly bloody from battle. Her manner of dress stood out from everyone around here in their typical Resistance garb, and she seemed almost shy as she made her way forward next to the man in Poe’s jacket.

               Slowly, you bring your eyes front and center. Leia was walking by herself, but she seemed to walk with a slight limp, and you wonder if something else had happened while you were gone. Something definitely had to have gone wrong, as Poe bore several new cuts and scratches along his face. He seemed to be avoiding your eyes, and you try not to study him too closely either. The ring he had given you still lay around your neck, the chain clearly visible if he was trying to see it.

               “Members of the Resistance,” you say as you get to your feet. “Welcome to Draboon.”

               The members of the assembly stand and kneel, and Joran seems to gesture for the members of the Resistance to do the same. It takes a few moments for them to drop slowly, one by one, with Poe hovering uncertainly by Leia’s side. He reaches out as if to offer her support, but she just waves him away as she stoops to one knee. You were pretty sure that was all she was capable of, and you quickly take a seat back on your throne, the innate gesture for them to stand.

               “Thank you for receiving us,” Leia says calmly. You know as well as she does how politically manufactured your conversation had to be, and you hoped that no one else would interject. “We were flying to the Outer Rim when we were tracked through hyperspace by new technology the First Order has developed. We managed to escape, but we are dangerously low on fuel. Draboon has always been a bastion of kindness and generosity, and I thank you, sincerely, for your hospitality.”

               A man, likely the same one from before, lets out a cry from amidst the assembly. “She’s lying! They’re probably still being tracked. They’ve brought the First Order back to our doorstep!”

               “Silence!”

               There’s a clear note of authority in your voice, and the entire room falls into a hushed silence as they wait for you to speak. You just manage to get a glimpse of Poe’s expression as you look them over, and you’re almost surprised to see that his eyes were wide, surprised to see you commanding this stern authority.

               “As you can see,” you begin coldly. “You’re being presumptuous. Draboon has provided you with a place to land, temporarily. What do you seek to gain by coming here?”

               You see Poe take a step forward as if he’s about to speak, before Leia raises her hand to silence him. That was probably for the best. “I understand,” Leia says patiently. “We promised to come to your protection and we failed to do so.” She half-turns to face the assembly. “I cannot convey the depths of my despair for what I’m sure you had to suffer through. When I was scarcely older than a child, I lost my home planet-”

               “Princess Leia,” you say firmly, and you can see the surprise ripple through the members of the Resistance. “With all due respect, Aldeeran was destroyed a long time ago, and the wounds of my people are still quite fresh.”

               Poe turns to gape at you, but thankfully remains silent. To her credit, a smirk pulls at the corner of Leia’s lips as she turns to face you directly. “You’re quite right,” she begins. “So let’s talk business. We need fuel to get us to the Outer Rim. We have supplies there, but not nearly enough as we need. We need provisions, supplies, any weapons you can give us.”

               You let out a brief snort as you regard Joran, who was keeping an impressively level expression. “I’m sure if you’ve heard of Draboon’s kindness, then you know that we are a peaceful planet without a sophisticated armory; what little we have, it will likely do you no good against the First Order.”

               “I ask for your forgiveness,” Leia says as she steeps her head. “But I have heard rumors that the First Order left sizeable amounts of their technology and weaponry behind on your planet when you forced them to evacuate. Clearly I have been misinformed.”

               She was calling you out. Leia was calling you out, and you suppress the scoff that rises in your throat as you struggle to remain as demure as possible. There were no _rumors_. Who would have spread them? Leia was directly telling everyone that you had the means to provide them with aid if you wished to, and the ball was now in your court.

               Fortunately, you knew how to play that game.

               “It’s possible we _may_ have some spare supplies,” you reply as your eyes drift over to your assembly. “But considering those supplies belonged to our oppressors, I think that whatever benefit they should provide should go to its victims, wouldn’t you agree?”

               “What are you saying?” Poe asks as he takes a step forward. Leia tries to grab his arm, but he pulls away as he takes a few steps towards you. “What is this? Who are you?”

               You don’t look at him. You can’t. Your heart was trembling in your chest but you do your best to look bored as you roll your eyes over to Leia. “General, can you please control your _Captain_? Otherwise I may be forced to dismiss him from my chamber.”

               Poe looks at you incredulously for a moment longer before he heads back towards Leia. You can see everyone else in the Resistance glancing at each other with confused faces, but you do your best to stay composed.

               “My apologies,” Leia replies. “I mean no disrespect to the people of the great planet of Draboon. I ask for only what little you are willing to provide.”

               Your eyes drift over to the assembly. This was why you had brought them here, wasn’t it? “As you very well know, I was not present for the worst of the occupation,” you say as you turn to them. “But they were, and as such, I think that they should have the final judgement concerning the distribution of supplies. Would you not think that fair?”

               “Very fair,” Leia says as she turns to face them. “I understand that we have done you wrong. We were not there for you when we said that we would be. We failed to defend your planet from the First Order, and it is only through the strength and ingenuity of your Queen that I can stand here before you today and ask you for something that I am clearly not entitled.”

               “But let us remember: the First Order is the true enemy, and with the Republic fleet destroyed, there remains little other hope of wiping them from the galaxy. That is not your war, it is our war. That is not your fight, it is our fight. You want liberty and sovereignty. I understand that. But the permeance of Draboon _depends_ on the future of this war. If we were to lose and the First Order remains victorious, they will not only return to plunge your planet into chaos, but all planets. A donation today is not a donation to us, but an investment, in a free and peaceful future.”

               Oh, she was good. She was very, very good. Leia had been in politics her whole life, and you could tell by the guilty shifting in the crowd that she knew how to win over an audience. You try your best to keep the smirk off your face as you gesture to the assembly to respond.

               “It doesn’t matter,” one woman speaks out as she steps forward. “I had three children, three young ones. They were all sent to the mines and forced to work to the bone. I have nothing left of them but ashes. We owe our liberation to the Queen, not to you. If they were return, I trust our Queen to defend us.”

               There’s a small chorus of agreement before another man speaks out. “Do you hear yourselves? Are you mad? Listen to this woman and get some sense! If the First Order returns, we are _all_ in danger. They were able to infiltrate our planet once before, and if they manage to do it again, all hope is lost.”

               The conversation goes back and forth, one argument being flung against another without any talk of compromise and resolution. You toy idly with your lower lip as you listen, trying to understand their concerns and their doubts. If you knew who they were, you’d know how to appeal to them. You’d know how to help them. Unfortunately, your thoughts were somewhat distracted as you noticed Poe gazing at you intently out of the corner of his eye.

               “This is going nowhere,” Poe says finally as he steps forward. “Yes, we didn’t come to your aid when you needed us to, and I’m sorry you suffered, I am, but we need to look to the future. Your Majesty, you’ve heard the arguments. You’ve heard what your people have to say. So what is your decision? Will you help us or not?”

               The assembly turns to you deferentially, and you could see that they were content to leaving this entire matter in your hands. The group, unfortunately, seemed easily divided, and it was clear that you had to make a decision. But wasn’t that what you had to do as Queen, anyway? You were bound to make decisions that not everyone would agree with. You had to do what _you_ thought was right, and compel the rest with your conviction.

               “My people are reticent-”

               “Wait, wait.” The man in Poe’s jacket steps forward, and while Leia tries to hold him back, you bid him come forward as he steps a little ways in front of the group.

               “What’s your name?”

               “Finn.”

               _Finn._ Your eyes flash with recognition. You remembered the name, but you didn’t have a face to put to it. He was the one who the former Stormtrooper, the one who helped Poe escape the Star Destroyer.

               “I understand you don’t want to give us supplies,” he says, almost a bit breathlessly. “But my friend is on board. Rose. She’s sick and she needs help.”

               The corners of your lips press down in a scowl. “What’s wrong?”

               “When we were-”

               “No, no.” Someone in the assembly speaks up, and you had no doubt that it was that man, _again_. “Now they want _medical_ supplies? The First Order rounded up all our best doctors and sent them off planet to tend to their own army. We barely have enough medical supplies to fend for ourselves, and yet you want us-”

               “Enough,” you snap, finally losing your composure as you get to your feet. “We are not the First Order. We are not the Resistance. We are the people of Draboon, and when we see someone in need, we help them. _That_ is our way. _That_ is the legacy that we are going to leave behind. That when the galaxy ripped itself apart into entropy, the people of Draboon were still able to preserve their humanity and come to the aid of _people_ , not an institution.”

               You turn back to Leia. “Clearly my citizens do not trust your intentions. As such, you will not be invited as guests into the royal castle, but you may remain docked in your ship for the duration of your _brief_ stay here. You need fuel to get you to the rest of your supplies in the Outer Rim? You shall have it. I will send over one of Draboon’s doctors to look at your friend-” You turn to Finn, who nods quickly. “-and spare whatever little food we have to give. Weapons, however, are not a part of the arrangement. If this conflict has taught us nothing, it is that Draboon must be prepared to fight for its own freedom if the need arises, and if it does, we will be ready to defend our sovereignty. Nothing more.”

               Poe crosses his arms over his chest as he glances away, but Leia just nods as she does a curtsy. “Thank you for your grace and your generosity, Your Majesty. If there is ever a time when the Resistance can come to your aid, please let us know. We will not abandon you again.”

               “I hope the need should never arise,” you say as you take a seat, and the rest of the Resistance ripples Leia’s bow as they turn to go. You turn to look at Poe, but he was the first one to turn around, and it looked like he was the first one out of the chamber room.

               You turn to Joran after they leave the room, and a silent look of understanding passes between you before you get up to leave.

               Quickly, you rush up to your room to change. You throw on darker clothes, and as you see the sun beginning to set on Draboon’s horizon, you quickly wrap a scarf around your head to disguise your blue locks. You just manage to finish tying it underneath your chin when there’s a knock on the door.

               “Joran.” You quickly rush into the main room as you pull open the door, not surprised to see him standing in its entrance.

               “Okay,” he says quickly, his eyes darting back down the hallway. “The coast is clear. Take the southeast entrance. That will lead you out to the hangar near where they are docked, a little ways away from the main ships. You should be able to slip by unnoticed, especially dressed like that.”

               “Good,” you say as you quickly step out and shut the door behind you, but it appears Joran isn’t finished.

               “I mean no offense, Your Majesty,” he begins tentatively. “But as one of your trusted advisors, I must advise you that this is not a good idea. If the people find out that you went to them, they may suspect you of colluding with them, an affront to the transparency that you have claimed that you’re trying to enforce.”

               “I know,” you admit quietly. “But there may be a time when we do need them again. They’re the only people fighting the First Order. They go down, and it’s possibly game over for us. Again.”

               “I know,” Joran admits. “But you did good today, I want you to know that. You showed the people that you are not willing to be intimidated, not by anyone.” You can feel him holding Poe’s name behind his teeth, and you just shake your head as you look away.

               “He looked pretty hurt,” you admit. “Do you think-?”

               “I wouldn’t dwell on it,” Joran says quickly, and you nod in agreement. “Okay, go, quickly. Be careful.”

               You bid him a quick word of thanks before you quietly slip out of the castle, heading out the southeast entrance where the secondary hangar was stationed. Sure enough, you could see the Millennium Falcon in the distance. As you approached, you could see giant dark blots along its hull, scorched black from blaster fire. It looked like it had taken a serious hit, and you almost wonder if their situation was more precarious than Leia had let on.

               Outside the entrance to the boarding ramp, you can see her metallic protocol droid standing outside, as if waiting for someone.

               “There you are,” he says as you approach. “The General has been expecting you.”

               You nod stiffly. “Take me to her.”

               “Right away.” He turns as he leads you up the boarding ramp, and you follow him into the ship. Immediately, you can tell that something’s wrong. There are people just sitting along the floor, a clear note of dejection on all of their faces. None of them even turn to look your way as the droid leads you into the Main Hold.

               “General Organa,” the droid begins as he walks in. Leia is surrounded by Finn, the girl, and a few other faces, but none that you place. Poe, it seemed, was currently elsewhere. “Your guest has arrived.”

               You can see Finn quirk up an eyebrow as he turns to Leia, but she just smiles. “Thank you, Threepio,” she says as she waves him away, and you quickly step forward as you lower your hood.

               The effect is instantaneous. Everyone else in the room looks surprised, everyone except for Leia, who keeps her composure. “It’s good to see you again.” She takes a step forward as she wraps her arms around you, and you quickly return her hug.

               “You too,” you reply as she steps away, still holding you at arm’s length.

               “I was so proud of you in there,” she continues. “You handled yourself well. Your mother would be so proud.”

               “I think snapping at Poe really sold it,” you say sheepishly, a smirk pulling at the corners of your lips, and Leia just nods.

               “I didn’t think to prepare him for what you had to say back there,” she admits. “But you did well.”

               You sense something in her tone, and your expression hardens somewhat. “It wasn’t all smoke, Leia. My planet was almost destroyed and it’ll take us a while to get back on our feet. I can give you fuel to get you to the Outer Rim, I can give you temporary sanctuary, but I don’t know how many supplies I can spare, especially weapons.”

               “I know,” Leia says gently as she puts a hand on your arm, but you can’t help but feel that it was too maternal. “I don’t ask for much, but I know that Kole must have left behind some weapons, and that’s what we have short supply of right now. Weapons and ships.”

               “Ships are the lifeblood of Draboon,” you reply uneasily. “You can’t have a market without an export, or a means to get your product to market. Weapons are another story, but I can’t put this all in your hands, Leia. I’m working on training my own fighting force, my own militia, to protect the interests of my planet so this never happens again.”

               “No offense,” Finn quickly steps forward between you, and you can’t imagine the look you must give him to watch him recoil so quickly. “Your Majesty, I just, uh.”

               You snort under your breath, trying to disguise your amusement. “You may speak.”

               “There is no winning when it comes to the First Order,” Finn reminds you. “Even if they try to launch an invasion and you hold them off, how long will it be? Days? Weeks? If the Resistance is eliminated, there will be no one left to protect your people. There will be nothing stopping the First Order from using every tool at their disposal to retake your planet.”

               “They don’t even need an invasion,” Leia reminds you. “Your planet is rich in lapis, but lacks other natural resources. A blockade of your planet is all they would need to starve you out, to force you into a surrender.”

               “Classic Empire tactics,” you remark bitterly, and Leia just nods. “I know this, believe me, I do. You know I told you I would do whatever it took to help take the First Order down, and I still want to, but I have a responsibility to my people too. If I don’t put them first, no one will.”

               Leia pushes her lips upwards at the corners as she turns back to her console, and you turn to Finn. “You’re Finn, right? Poe told me a lot about you. He told me how you saved his life back on that Star Destroyer.”

               “That, oh, no-” Finn shakes his head from side to side. “You know Poe?”

               “Um, a bit.” Your cheeks suddenly flush crimson and you turn to the girl standing just behind Finn in a vain attempt to take the attention off of yourself. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I’ve seen you around the base before.”

               “Oh, um, no.” The girl blushes as she takes a step forward. “I’m Rey.”

               “Rey,” you say as you take in her unusual manner of dress again. “Where are you from, Rey?”

               She shifts for a moment before she replies, “Jakku. It’s a trading hub in the Outer Rim.” She hesitates for a moment before she adds, “I once found a bead of lapis, hidden in a scrap mine in the desert. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen.”

               “Well then, Rey of Jakku,” you reply. “Please remind me to give you another before you leave, to take with you on your travels.”              

               Rey’s eyes go wide, as does Finn’s. You were pretty sure Rey was surprised at being offered anything; Finn probably knew how much even just a bead was worth.

               “Oh no,” Rey says quickly. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly accept-”

               “As a gesture,” you say with some finality. “To the goodwill between Draboon and the Resistance.” You turn to Leia as you speak. She just looks over her shoulder and winks in your direction, clearly also amused by Rey’s awkwardness.

               Finn looks like he’s about to say something before the door opens and Poe walks through. Leia turns around and crosses her arms over her chest, and suddenly you got the distinct feeling you knew what she was doing at that console. Of course it only made good sense that she would want to repair relations between you and Poe; the closer you were to him, the more you would help the Resistance if he asked. He was your soft spot, and there wasn’t a thing you could do to help it.

               “Hi,” you say quietly, suddenly feeling very small before him.

               “Hi,” Poe replies. He looks just as unsure to see you as you are of him, and no one speaks for what seems like minutes as everyone surveys the tension building between you.

               “Poe,” Leia says suddenly. “Why don’t you help her survey the inventory in the Forward Hold?”

               Poe looks confused for the briefest of moments before he understands her meaning. “Yeah,” he says quickly as he glances back towards you. You nod in return, quickly following him into the ship’s Forward Hold.

               It’s musty, its walls covered in boxes and dusty looking crates, and Poe stops as he gestures to the room all around him. “As you can see, we don’t have much.”

               “Come on,” you say impatiently as you cross your arms over your chest. “You know Leia only wanted us in here to talk. So let’s talk.”

               “What is there to talk about?” Poe asks, letting his hands collapse by his sides. “You’re Queen again. You need to put Draboon first. I get it.”

               “No, you don’t.” The emotion is thick in your voice, and you consider leaving right then and there before you realize that you will never forgive yourself if you do.

               Your initial holo meeting to tell them that you had retaken Draboon had been brief, but you had hinted that you hadn’t emerged without some scars. You hadn’t told them explicitly what had happened, but you told them that Kole had captured you, and that he had been swiftly eliminated when he let his guard down. You didn’t need to tell Poe what happened. He was smart enough to put two and two together for himself.

               “What part are you most angry about, Poe? Tell me. Are you angry that I snapped at you in there? Are you angry that I ended up back at my home planet instead of at the rendezvous point in the Outer Rim? Or are you mad because of what Kole did to me?”

               There it was. It was out on the table now, and Poe had no choice but to respond to it.

               Unfortunately, he doesn’t.

               “Do you know what happened after you left?” Poe demands. “Everything went to hell after that. The _Raddus_ was attacked. We lost all our ships. I lost _Black One_. We lost Admiral Ackbar and we almost lost Leia. We crashed on Crait and were almost wiped out completely if Rey hadn’t shown up in the _Falcon_.”

               You blink at him, trying to understand the implications of what he just said. “So wait, this is it then? Besides what little you have in the Outer Rim, these supplies, these people, this is _all_ that’s left of the Resistance?”

               Poe glares at you, but you glare right back. “How can you put that all on my shoulders, Poe? Draboon has next to nothing-”

               “You have something,” Poe says coldly, and you can feel tears starting to pool in your eyes. You had no idea when you had gotten so emotional, but you knew that was something that you couldn’t afford to be, especially now.

               You open your mouth to speak but no sound comes out. “Not any more, I guess,” you respond bitterly as you turn to go.

               You’re just about out the door when you can feel him grab onto the back of your arm, spinning you around to face him. “Don’t.”

               “Don’t what?” you demand. “Leave? What are you worried about if I do? That I’ll kick you and the Resistance off this planet, that I won’t give Leia a scrap of aid if things end between us?” You scoff as you pull away from him. “Is that really what you think of me?”

               “I don’t know,” Poe responds, his voice still cold. “The way you treated us back there-”              

               “It was a trick,” you yell in his face, unable to believe how thick he was. “A joke. A ruse. Draboon _hates_ the Resistance. Leia _abandoned_ us. Do you think my people _want_ an alliance? They want to be independent, and what’s more, they don’t want to help the people who got them into this situation in the first place. The whole point of that exchange was to make it look like I was giving you nothing by giving you something. Leia got it. Why didn’t you?”

               Poe’s silent for a moment as the wheels turn in his mind, as if he’s slowly beginning to think this through. “I’m sorry,” he says as he sinks his face into one hand. “I’m sorry, I haven’t slept in days, and-”

               “It’s fine,” you say quickly as you give him a small curtsy to show him you were leaving. “I suggest you get some sleep then. I’ll leave you to it.”

               “No,” Poe says firmly, taking a step to block the door even though you hadn’t moved. “No, I want you to tell me what happened. Why did you head back to Draboon? Were you captured? Did they find you?”

               You honestly don’t have the heart to tell Poe that you defied his orders, that you had risked possibly being killed, or worse, in an attempt to take back your planet. But why had you done it? To help your people? To help get more supplies for the Resistance? To impress Poe after you had failed him on the battlefield?

               “I don’t want to talk about it,” you reply suddenly, because right now, you really didn’t. You had no idea how your first meeting with Poe was going to go once he found out you had taken back control of your planet, and this was going about the worst way that you could possibly expect.

               You expect Poe to push you, but instead he relents immediately. “That’s okay,” he says gently as he takes a step closer towards you. When you don’t pull away, he ventures another. “None of that matters. All I want to know is, are you okay?”

               You hesitate for a moment, not daring yourself to speak. Your lower lip trembles and you can feel tears pooling in your eyes again as Poe quickly steps forward and pulls you into a hug. “It’s okay,” he says gently. “It’s over. He’s gone.”

               You just bury your face in Poe’s chest as you hug him tightly to you, not daring yourself to speak. You almost hadn’t just lost your life. You almost lost Poe and the Resistance and Draboon and everything that mattered to you. There’s no way you can express those feelings in words, and so you just hug Poe tightly to you and don’t let go.

               “I won’t force you to talk about it-”

               “Good.” You shake your head from side to side as you step away. “Like you said, it’s over. He’s gone. There’s nothing left to talk about.” Poe looks at you uneasily, and you rub your hands up and down your arms in a weak attempt to console yourself. “So where does this leave us?”

               “Us?” Poe asks, as if he’s surprised. His eyes dart to the chain clearly visible around your neck, and you gingerly fish it out, pulling the ring into your fist.

               “What I mean is,” you venture quietly. “Do you want this _back_?” You try to keep your tone even, but even you can’t deny the distinct tremor in your voice.

               “No.” Poe takes a step forward and raises your fingers to his lips as he kisses your closed fist. “No, that belongs to you.”

               “The Resistance.” You gesture vaguely to the area around you. “I can’t be a part of this anymore, Poe. I have to help my people, my planet. I have to help them first.” You can feel the apology stinging in your eyes, and you know Poe can see it.

               “I know,” he says gently. “Remember, this war won’t go on forever. It can’t.”

               “But what if it does?” Suddenly you don’t feel like the queen of a planet at all. You feel like the child that had first left her planet, seeking adventure without thought to the consequences. “What if something happens and I never see you again?”

               The corner of Poe’s mouth twists into a lopsided smirk as he brushes the hair out of your face. “Come on, you know me.”

               “I do.” You can’t help but hit his arm lightly, and Poe just grins. “I do know you. But, Poe…” You let your voice trail off as you think about what you really want to say. "After Kole…after what Kole did, I understand if you don’t, you know, if things changed for you.”

               Poe narrows his eyes, looking at you as seriously as he ever had. “What happened to you wasn’t your fault,” he says firmly, accentuating each syllable so that you know that he means it.

               “Yeah, I know that,” you reply lamely. The truth was that you did _know_ , the trouble was making yourself believe it. “I just-”

               You weren’t sure what you were about to say, but you don’t have time to finish regardless as Poe puts both hands on your face, kissing you deeply. You wrap your arms around his neck and jump onto him without thinking. He responds immediately, wrapping his hands underneath your thighs to support you as he pushes you back against the wall. You can feel something hard inset into the wall strike your back, and you let out a breathy moan into Poe’s mouth as you push against him with everything you have.

               You don’t know how long you stay like that for, making out against the wall of the _Falcon,_ but it’s not nearly long enough as the door suddenly opens and two people rush in. You quickly hit at Poe’s shoulders as you try to push him away from you, but he holds you steady, slowly lowering you to your feet so he doesn’t drop you.

               “Finn,” he says slowly, looking at each of them in turn. “Rey.”

               You’re not sure who looks more embarrassed, you or them, and Finn simply points to the wall behind you. You both turn to look, only to see the console for the ship’s communication system set into the wall. You had accidentally switched in on when Poe had pushed you against it, and the sounds of you making out had been blasted throughout the ship.

               “No,” you say quickly. “Oh no no no.”

               “If it helps, no one knew where it was coming from,” Rey offers, but it’s met with only silence. Obviously at least _some_ people knew where it had been coming from, considering they had known exactly where to look.

               “Hey, it’s okay,” Poe says as he smooths your hair back. “Not too many people know you’re on board. Your secret’s safe.”

               You turn back to Finn and Rey, who just nod their heads in agreement.

               “Maybe,” you admit. “But I’m too exposed here, and Joran can’t cover for me forever. I have to be getting back.”

               Poe frowns, the corners of his lips turning downwards, but you just smirk as you smile up at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll see you tonight.”

               “Tonight?” Poe’s forehead crinkles in confusion. “What’s tonight?”

               “I’m not sure if you’re aware,” you say, turning to include Rey and Finn in the conversation as well. “But with the atmosphere from Draboon’s jungles, the temperature drops below freezing at night, and this ship isn’t exactly the most insulated.” You see the brief look of alarm pass over their faces. “That’s why I’m inviting you all into the castle to sleep tonight. I know what I said in there, but I’m not leaving you all out here to freeze to death.”

               “Are you sure?” Finn asks, looking between you and Poe. “We don’t want to do anything…”

               “It’s fine,” you say dismissively, hitting Poe’s arm lightly. “If anyone says anything, I’ll just say it’s payback for the accommodations Leia gave me when I first arrived.”

               “As you wish.” Poe leans in to kiss your temple, and you can’t help but blush.

               “I’ll send out my guards later to bring you in and show you to your rooms,” you say, glancing at Poe out of the corner of your eye. He just nods quickly as he scratches the back of his head, and for a moment you’re worried you made that too obvious.

               “I should go,” you say quickly, but before you go, Poe takes your hand and raises it to his lips as he kisses the back of your knuckles.

               “I love you.”      

               You just smirk again, trying to stop your face from turning a brilliant shade of crimson. “Love you too.”

               With that, you quickly turn and head out of the Forward Hold. You’re about to leave when you hesitate for a moment, lingering near the door.

               “Dude!” You can hear Finn say from inside. “All the times you told us about your girl, you never said that she was a Queen!”

               “Oh, really?” Poe asks, his voice alight with good humor. “Did I forget to mention that?”

               You can hear Finn say something else, but it would be unbecoming of the Queen of Draboon if they caught you eavesdropping, and so you quickly make your way out of the ship and back to the castle.

               Poe Dameron was here. He was alive. You had no idea if the Resistance was going to win this war or what the future would be like between you if it did, but right now he was here. And he was safe. And you were happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the Leia snippet some time ago, but I couldn't quite figure out where to squeeze it in...but I think it works here before we see the confrontation of our princess, er, Queen, and how she really comes into her own to oppose Leia now that she finally has an understanding of Leia's pragmatism and gets to turn it back against her. I know the last few chapters haven't been Poe-centric, but the next one should fix that! Until then, cheers!!


	36. Chapter 36

               You walk back and forth from one area of your bedroom to the other, your hands behind your back, your thumb and middle finger pinching around the opposite wrist as you walked. Your bedroom consisted of three rooms; the antechamber for receiving guests, the parlor for entertaining guests, and then the bedroom, which no one but your select staff was allowed to see.

               Or, of course, anyone you decided was fit for entry, and Poe Dameron was definitely at the top of that list.

               Suddenly, you hear a small commotion outside the door, and you quickly rush through the three rooms as you open up the door to see Poe standing with his arms raised by his head as if in surrender. One of your guards had his weapon drawn, although was pointing it at the floor.

               “Poe,” you demand loudly, looking from the guards to him. “What the hell are you doing?”

               “Me?” Poe juts at the other guard with his chin. “He said he was going to stab me.”

               The guard rolls his eyes towards you as he holds up a signature black box, and you understand immediately. “Poe, are you afraid of needles?”

               “I’m not _afraid_ of needles,” Poe huffs as he rolls your eyes, and you can’t help but snort as you feel an involuntary tug pull at the corners of your lips.

               “Come inside,” you say to Poe, who quickly moves towards you as you hold your hand out to the guard for the box. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

               “Yes, Your Majesty,” the guards say as the dip their heads, and you quickly shut the door to avoid the sour looks they were shooting in Poe’s direction.

               “You know,” you say to Poe as you turn back around to face him. “Whenever you see me in public, you’re supposed to kneel in front of me. I don’t think my guards liked that you didn’t.”

               “Uh huh,” Poe murmurs, but you can tell that he’s distracted by the ornate architecture of your bedroom. He keeps turning with his head turned up towards the ceiling, his eyes resting over one bit of ornate finery before moving onto the next.

               “My mother was a big fan of the arts,” you tell him as you step up beside him. “She commissioned the galaxy’s finest artists to create what she wanted to be seen as the most beautiful palace in the galaxy.”

               “Well it certainly is that,” Poe replies, still distracted, and you just smirk again as you pull his jacket from his shoulders from behind him. He doesn’t stop you, and you toss it onto a nearby couch as you move to take the needle from the box.

               This gets Poe’s attention immediately.

               “Hey, I don’t need that,” he says warily. “We’re only going to be here tonight, right? I think I’ll be safe for one night.”

               “The First Order let the castle go to ruin,” you remind him. “We’re still fixing it up. They think that they have all the cracks fixed up in here, but they don’t know for sure, and I don’t want to run the risk of you dying in the worst way imaginable because you’re afraid of a little pinch.”

               “It’s more than a little pinch,” Poe responds, but he seems to relent as you draw closer.

               “Everyone else is getting one,” you tell him lightly as you swab an area of his bicep clean. “Better safe than sorry.”

               “Yeah,” Poe grunts, as if already bracing himself for impact.

               “How about this,” you say as you hold the needle against his skin. “You don’t be a baby about this, and I’ll tell you how I killed Kole.”

               This gets his attention, and you use that exact moment to plunge the needle into his bicep. Poe flinches and grimaces, contorting his face up as he tries to focus on anything but the sharp instrument sticking out of his skin.

               “You were the one who killed Kole?” he asks, and for a moment you let this take you by surprise.

               “Yeah,” you reply gently as you finish up, suddenly regretting this choice of conversation. “Yeah, who do you think did it?”

               “I don’t know, Joran?” Poe offers. “Grax? I thought you were there when it happened, but I didn’t know you fired the shot.”

               _Shot? What did he think had happened?_

“Did you get this from Leia?” you ask as you cross your arms over your chest. “There was no shot. What are you talking about?”

               Poe grimaces as he looks down at his arm. “So what was the point of this again?”

               “Your arm is going to feel stiff for a while,” you tell him, although you’re suddenly not in much of a mood to talk. “Sorry about that.”

               “It’s fine.” Poe shrugs it off as he comes around to face you, brushing your hair back out of your face as he leans down to kiss your forehead. “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it.”

               “I want to show you the rest of the castle,” you tell him suddenly. “Although that’s going to have to wait for another trip, if you ever come back here. Right now I’m not allowed to go around without an armored escort. We don’t know if the First Order planted bombs or mines in the rest of the castle, and the last thing I need is to suddenly blow up walking around my own home.”

               Poe seems to sense your deflection as he runs his hands up and down your arms. “I’ll come back, believe me,” he says gently. “But what happened with Kole? I get the sense that you want me to know but you don’t want to tell me.”

               You roll your shoulders to try to seem indifferent, but you couldn’t deny that Poe had hit the nail on the head. You wanted him to know what you had gone through, but you didn’t want to be the one who had to tell him what happened.

               “How about this,” Poe offers. “I ask questions, and you just give me yes or no answers. Do you think that would work?”

               You want to tell him no. You want to tell him that you would just explain what happened. You wanted to tell him that you weren’t a child and you could communicate what had happened to you without getting sappy or emotional. Instead, you just find your head bobbing forward of its own accord.

               “Okay,” Poe says, as he seems to consider the situation for a while before he asks his first question. “Were there other people in the room?”

               “No.”

               “So it was just you and Kole.”

               “Yes.”

               “And there were no blasters involved?”

               “No.”

               “And no weapons? No vibroblades or anything like that?”

               “No, nothing like that.”

               Poe stares you down as if he’s trying to figure out if you’re telling the truth. “Can you tell me where this happened?”

               “In one of the bedrooms,” you reply, and Poe looks away in disgust. It’s not at you, you know it’s not at you, but you can’t help but twist uncomfortably regardless.

               “I’m sorry,” he begins, but you hold up your hand to stop him.

               “I don’t want you to be sorry,” you say pointedly. “What happened wasn’t your fault, Poe. It was mine. I got myself in this situation and I couldn’t get myself out of it.” You brush your hair out of your face with both hands as you turn away from him. There was no future with Poe if you weren’t honest with him, but there was also the chance that Poe wouldn’t want a future with you if you were. How were you supposed to reconcile that with yourself?

               “Look, after we left, I planned on going to the Outer Rim, I did. But Joran told my team that I was Queen of Draboon and so they insisted on coming with me. Along the way, he told them that our secret mission was really to go back to Draboon. At first I told them that we were going to the Outer Rim, no questions asked, but they pointed out how much it could help the Resistance if we got Draboon back, and I had already made such a miserable show of my flying skills back on D’Qar and I disappointed you, and so I wanted to do something that would make you proud of me. I didn’t really think about the consequences or what could happen.”

               “At least, not until I was swarmed by TIE Fighters and nearly blown out of the sky. For a moment I thought that I was dead, I really, truly did. But Kole wanted us to come down and talk, and I’m sure you can imagine how that went. I was basically kidnapped, my friends were imprisoned, and that’s when I realized I was probably going to die there and you wouldn’t have any idea what had happened to me.”

               “We got his transmission,” Poe says quietly as he avoids your eyes, and you roll your shoulders as you look down and away. You had no idea what Kole had said to them, but it only figured that Kole would want to gloat your capture to the Resistance, and especially to Poe.

               “So you know more or less what happened,” you say flatly. “Well, when I woke up, I tried to get away. Both of my ankles were strapped down and my wrist was tied to the top of the bed, but he left one arm free. I kept pulling at it until I realized it wasn’t going to come free and then I saw a mite crawling around in a crack just past the headboard.”

               “I’d been away from home for so long, I didn’t know if I was still vaccinated, but at that point I didn’t care. I reached out and waited for it to crawl into my hand. I tried to stay calm and while he was sleeping, I put my hand near him. It kept crawling around for a while, it seemed more interested in exploring than biting me, and eventually I got it to go over to him. I’m not sure if he felt it crawling around or it bit him or what, but he slapped it in his sleep and crushed it.”

               “When you kill them, they release pheromones to warn the others, and they came. They _swarmed_. I felt them crawling all over me-” Your body releases an involuntary tremor as you recall the feeling of their millions of tiny feet moving across your entire body. “-but I tried to remain calm. I tried not to give them a reason to bite me, and I don’t think they did. They bit him though. They bit him everywhere. It took him hours to die. The mites release a poison into your bloodstream that basically eats away every organ it passes through like acid, killing you slowly from the inside out.”

               “Glad I got that shot,” Poe quips, but it’s not funny. Nothing’s funny, not right now.

               “So I kind of faded in and out of it after a while. I don’t know, no Stormtroopers came in, I guess Kole left them orders not to disturb him. I don’t know. But after a while Joran and the others came in disguised as Stormtroopers and found the key to release me. Then Grax thought of a plan to take the planet back, and I guess you’ve heard how the story ends. He’s my Chief Security Officer, Joran’s my advisor, and I’m the new Queen.”

               “I’m sorry,” Poe says quietly, but you just shrug your shoulders.

               “So that’s what happened,” you say, continuing to talk to the wall, unable to turn around and see Poe’s expression. “Look, I need to say this now, Poe. I’m me and you’re you. Kole, for all his gloating, was right about one thing.”

               “There is _nothing_ that he was right about,” Poe says firmly, so firmly, you almost turn around to look at him again.

               “I know,” you say gently. “I know. He told me the only reason you showed interest in me was because Leia said so, and then I guess he changed his mind because he told me it was only because you knew I was going to be Queen someday and you wanted to be King.” You shake your head. “Shows how much he knows about royalty. That’s not how that works. It’s a maternal bloodline, and besides, you can’t be a king of a planet you weren’t born to.”

               “I can say that thought has literally never crossed my mind,” Poe tells you gently. “But you do know that Leia wanted me to be on good terms with you. We had a diplomatic alliance with your planet. If anything-”

               “I know, but that doesn’t have anything to do with what developed between us,” you continue, and Poe makes a small sound of agreement.

               “Look. Poe.” You shift restlessly from one foot to the other. “I’m only going to say this once, so please, really listen. My life is here. The _rest_ of my life is here. I can’t leave anymore, it’s just not going to happen. But your place is with the Resistance. You’ll be fighting and risking your life and you’ll meet people. You’ll meet a lot of people. Maybe people you like more than me and I get…” You let your voice trail off as you drive the toe of your boot into the floor. “And I get it. I’m not stupid. The war could go on for years. Maybe a decade. Maybe longer. Maybe you’ll be able to come back here and visit me, but maybe you’ll be on the other side of the galaxy and…you won’t. Maybe you’ll want to and you can’t, but either way, I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem fair to you.”

               “Did I do something wrong?” Poe asks suddenly.

               You blink, not sure if you understood what he had just said. “What?”

               “Is this still about Kole or is this about something else?” Poe asks. His voice is serious now, tense. “You keep circling back to the idea that I’m just going to abandon you here and not think twice about you once this planet’s in my rearview mirror, and I don’t know why. Is it something I did? Is it something someone is saying to you? I don’t know where this is coming from.”

               “I’m just trying to be, I don’t know… _pragmatic_.” Your lips settle on the word, but you still don’t like the way it sounds. “You want to know the truth?”

               “I’d prefer it if you turned around when you told me.”

               “The truth,” you say, without moving. “Is that I’m more trouble than I’m worth and I’m giving you a way out. An easy way out.”

               From behind you, you can hear Poe cross his arms over his chest. “And what makes you think I’ll want a way out?”

               “Because.” You kick out your foot as you half-turn to face him. “I don’t know, when the war is over, won’t there be other stuff for you to do? You’re a good leader and Leia will want you involved. You’d, I don’t know, you’d get bored living on one planet for the rest of your life.”

               “Meaning you’re going to get bored living on one planet for the rest of your life,” Poe corrects you, and you can’t help but shrug. It figured Poe would be able to see right through you without you even realizing it for yourself.

               “Maybe I am deflecting,” you admit softly. “But then again, I don’t have a choice.”

               “No,” Poe agrees, and you can feel your heart sink in your chest. “But I do. And I chose you, remember?”

               “Back when it was abstract,” you remind him. “Back when we were talking about _when_ and _if_. If I got my planet back. Well now we’re here. Now we’re standing here.”

               “And did anything change?” Poe asks, as if it’s a question he seriously wants you to answer.

               “Yes,” you exclaim, before you quickly amend your statement. “I mean, no, nothing changed. Not between us, at least.”

               “I don’t know what Kole said that got in your head,” Poe begins gently. “But it doesn’t change the way that I feel about you.”

               “My feelings didn’t change either,” you continue. “But the situation has. Think about what happened back in the throne room, Poe. I expected you to _get it_ and you didn’t.”

               Poe gnaws on his lower lip as he thinks this over. “You’re right,” he admits. “I haven’t been myself the past few days, not since we left D’Qar, and I’m not really thinking things through as much as I should. You’re right, I should have picked up on that, and I’m sorry I didn’t. I know that there’s a lot of political savvy that you’ve trained your whole life for, and I know that I’m totally ignorant of all of it. I’m willing to learn what you want me to learn, but not now. It can’t be now.”

               “I know.” You turn to face him in earnest now. “I know the Resistance has to come first now. All I need to know is that you’ll _want_ to learn. That you won’t suddenly decide that it’s too much trouble in two years or five years or ten years and I’ve spent my entire life waiting for someone who isn’t coming back.”

               Your lower lip trembles as Poe comes forward to embrace you, and you just wrap your arms around his middle as you bury your face in his chest.

               “I’m asking so much of you,” you say quietly, in a weak attempt to control your voice. “You didn’t ask for this. Being with me is going to be _hard_ , Poe, maybe harder than you realize, and I’m scared that you’ll change your mind. This relationship has always been on your terms before. Your base. Your Resistance. Your training. Now it’s different and I don’t know how you’ll react to it, or if you’ve even thought this through as much as I have to say you’ll know for certain.”

               “You know I haven’t given this as much thought as you have,” Poe says gently, and you make a small noise of agreement. “And now that you’re talking this over, I can see what concerns you have, but you know me. When is the last time I have ever backed away from a challenge?”

               “Probably never?” you offer, and Poe grins as he holds you at arm’s length.

               “That’s right,” he tells you. “It’s going to be hard, with the distance, it’s going to be hard for both of us. But that doesn’t mean that this isn’t worth it. When I say I want to try, I mean it, okay? You’re right, it’s not now, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t going to be a someday. If anything, it means that I’ll try that much harder to take down the First Order if one less day fighting means one more day I get to spend with you.”

               You gnaw on your lower lip, trying and failing to keep yourself from grinning. Poe was standing right in front of you, telling you everything that you wanted to hear from him. You had wanted him since you met him, you wanted him the more you had gotten to know him, and you knew without a doubt that you wanted him in your future. Draboon was your home, but you couldn’t deny that your home was wherever Poe was as well.

               “We’ll work this out,” you say gently, and you can see Poe’s eyes light up as he gnaws on his lower lip, nodding his head forward to see you finally agreeing.

               “We will,” he agrees as he reaches forward to kiss you. Part of you wants to insist that there was still more that you should talk about, whether it came to the Resistance or Draboon or anything, but as soon as you found yourself kissing him back, you couldn’t help but surrender to him.

               You knew what you wanted, and you knew that Poe wouldn’t be around for very much longer. Right now you had to just silence the stream of panicked voices inside your head and live in the moment. Poe was here, and that was all you really wanted.

* * *

             You sat straight up in bed, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You could feel a sense of dread overtake you as you realized that this was it. Poe was leaving.

               You rolled over to stomach to see him sleeping flat on his back, as he often did, with his arms spread out on either side of him. Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you couldn’t help but reach down to kiss the soft stubble of his jaw, running your hand through his hair as you swept it back off his forehead.

               You didn’t want Poe to leave. The thought struck you as more of a challenge than something you had to accept, and immediately the gears started churning in your mind as if this was a plan that you had been deliberating for hours instead of a measly ninety seconds.

               “Sleep, baby,” you whisper as you kiss his temple. “I’ll be back soon. Queenly duties to take care of.”

               Poe grunts as he rolls over onto his side, skimming his hand over your back, and it almost killed you to push him away. Instead, you just kissed him again as you tucked him in, gingerly hopping off the bed so as not to startle him.

               Clothes. You needed clothes. You spotted your socks on the floor near the doorway, and quickly went to retrieve it before you realized that your other clothes weren’t in this room at all. Quickly, you step out into the parlor and quickly realize that your walk of shame was going to consist the span of three bedrooms.

               Vaguely the memory came back to you from last night, Poe picking you up and carrying you into what he thought was the bedroom.

               _“Um. Where’s the bed?”_

_“This is the parlor, silly. The bed’s still back there.”_

Poe’s smirk. _“I guess this will take some getting used to.”_

This was definitely not something Poe had ever grown up with, but would he be able to get accustomed to it? People often dreamed of wealth only to be turned off and made uncomfortable by its opulence. Would that happen to Poe?

               You hoped not, but you knew one thing for sure: Poe could not leave yet. He just couldn’t.

               You turn towards one of the guards as you leave your room. “If he awakes, keep him here, but bring breakfast up for him. Find two Resistance members by the names of Rey and Finn – they should be easy enough to find – and bring them up to join him. If he asks where I am, tell him I’m dealing with affairs of the planet and I shall return shortly.”

               “Yes, Your Majesty,” the guard replies, and you nod him off as you turn towards the other guard.

               “Take me to whatever quarters you’ve reserved for General Organa.”

               “Yes, Your Majesty,” the guard replies, and you quickly follow him through the castle as you eventually lead the door to where Leia had been staying. You hoped that she wouldn’t be asleep, but it didn’t look like she had been sleeping at all. Instead, five or six Resistance crew members were in there with her, all busy working on data pads and consoles of various sizes.

               “I trust my guards have been hospitable,” you say as you enter, and Leia pauses for a moment, as if she hadn’t heard you come in.

               “Yes,” she replies as she looks you up and down, and suddenly you’re aware that you should have made an effort to make yourself at least a bit more presentable. “I am surprised to see you here, though.”

               “I’m here on Draboonian business,” you reply, suddenly feeling unsure of yourself. You know that’s a feeling that you can’t permit yourself to be, not now, and so you quickly push forward. “We need to talk about Poe. Commander Dameron.”

               “Captain Dameron,” Leia corrects you, and that gives you enough of a push to ask for what you really wanted.

               “I want to keep him,” you reply, bold and unrelenting, and suddenly all the other activity in the room stops as everyone turns to regard you. Leia raises an eyebrow, and you quickly stammer to explain yourself. “Okay, maybe not forever, but a week or two, at least.”

               Leia just shakes her head as if she doesn’t understand. “Look, I can appreciate your feelings for each other, but Poe’s the best pilot that we have right now. I can’t afford to lose him.”

               “Not feelings,” you say quickly, knowing how childish it would seem if that’s what you admitted to. “It’s been recently brought to my attention that the First Order has compromised the capabilities of Draboon’s fleet. I need his assistance in helping to train new pilots, to train people to train new pilots, and to help ensure the integrity of my ships.”

               “That’ll take time,” Leia says. She holds her composure, but you can’t help but think that the way that she said it almost sounded like a warning.

               “I know that,” you admit. “All I’m asking for is a foundation. Just a cursory examination and study. One week. Two at the most.”

               It was a trial run. It was a trial run to see Poe interact with the other people of Draboon. To see how well he got along with them. To see if he could actually play a useful part of Draboon’s economy, instead of just hanging off your arm, where you knew he would quickly find himself bored.

               You just hoped Leia couldn’t see right through you.

               “And I suppose you’re going to offer compensation for his absence?” Leia asks.

               This was a question you had already come prepared for. “Double the supplies,” you say firmly. “Double the supplies and not only that, but Poe told me what happened to _Black One._ If he stays, he’s obviously going to need a ship to return to you. I’ll give him _Iris One._ ”

               Leia frowns before she slowly shakes her head. Your lower lip trembles, and you quickly bite down to try to steady yourself.  “You need to be careful,” she warns you. “Yesterday? You were smart. But now you’re playing a dangerous game. You can’t afford to be sentimental and risk your planet’s supplies over-” She shakes her head as if she isn’t sure how to continue. You’re glad she doesn’t.

               “Not sentiment,” you insist, standing your ground. “You need supplies. I need an experienced pilot to help ensure that Draboon’s exports go uninterrupted. Given his past experiences with the New Republic, Poe is a primary candidate to assist me, and you know that.”

               “Maybe,” Leia replies. “But I should remind you that the Resistance does have other allies. Right now what we need is pilots. We can get supplies elsewhere, but we need pilots of Poe’s caliber the most right now.”

               “I’m calling your bluff.” The words are out of your mouth without your conscious recognition of them, and even Leia looks surprised. “The Resistance may have other allies, but they are not in a position to offer you much aid. If they were, you wouldn’t be here. My original offer still stands. Double the supplies and _Iris One_ for a week or two of Poe’s time. I’m sure you can avoid being captured and eliminated by the First Order in that time?”

               Leia runs her thumb over her lower lip as if she’s seriously considering this. In truth, it was a much more advantageous proposition for her than it was for you, at least as far as Draboon was concerned.

               “And why isn’t Poe here?” Leia asks. “How does he feel about this arrangement?”

               You had been hoping she wouldn’t ask that question, but now that she had, you couldn’t evade it. “He’s thinking pragmatically,” you tell her. “Big picture. If the Resistance needs supplies in the future, they’ll turn to Draboon. If our trading network collapses, we won’t have any supplies to spare.” You want to hold back, but you just can’t help yourself. “And he’s interested in getting to know Draboon’s commercial trading network better as well. When the war ends…”

               You trail off as you stare her down, almost daring her to challenge you. To a certain extent, a part of you had always assumed it was going to come down to this. Right now, Poe was torn between choosing you and Draboon or Leia and the Resistance. You knew that serving the Resistance now was serving your long-term interests as well, but you couldn’t help but realize that the look that Leia was giving you now indicated that she wanted Poe to step up and be the leader that the Resistance needed after she was gone.

               Would she purposely try to undermine your relationship while he was away in order to serve her own goals?

               You couldn’t say for sure, but Leia just seems to nod off your comment. “That’s a ways away yet,” she replies. “We plan to take off around noon. If he’s not with us by that time, then I’ll expect to see him shortly.”

               “You will,” you reply as you head towards the door. For whatever reason, you stop just before you’re through the threshold. “May the Force be with you, Leia.”

               You leave quickly, trying to keep your cheeks from blushing furiously. Why, exactly, had you just said that? You couldn’t be sure, but you hoped that the Force was on your side when you broke the news to Poe. What if he refused to stay behind when the Resistance needed him the most? It would completely undermine your credibility, and make you look even more foolish than you had asking for such a thing in the first place.

               As you near your door, you make a sudden decision as you turn towards your guards. “Any news?”

               “He’s awake, Your Majesty,” one of the guards informs you. “He’s having breakfast with his friends, as you instructed.”

               “Good,” you reply. “Thank you for your service.”

               “Your Majesty.” They kneel before you and you just nod them off as you enter your room.

               You find Poe in the parlor with Finn and Rey, sitting around a circular table loaded with food. Finn kept going on about the luxury of the palace, how cool the place was, while you smirked and hovered just behind the doorway, trying to see how much of the conversation you could pick up before they noticed you.

               Unfortunately, it wasn’t much.

               “Did you just hear someone come in?” Rey asks suddenly, and you curse your rotten luck as you head into the parlor.

               “Good morning,” you say pleasantly as you sit down in the empty chair between Rey and Poe. “How are you liking the accommodations of the palace?”

               “They’re amazing,” Finn says at the same time Rey offers, “It’s too much” and they both glance at each other and let out a small laugh as Poe leans in to plant a kiss on your temple. He couldn’t have known how much you needed that right now, but you reach under the table and squeeze his leg regardless.

               “They really liked dinner last night,” Poe informs you. “Apparently neither of them have ever been to a banquet before.”

               You quirk up an eyebrow. “That wasn’t a banquet. It was just an assortment of different foods that they thought would be most appealing to everyone. Trust me, when the war is over, we will hold a _big_ banquet and then you’ll see.”

               But it seems no one wants to talk about the war, and you don’t either, so you pass through breakfast hearing the story of how Finn met Poe, and how Rey met Finn, and basically the series of events that landed them on Draboon. You listened with interest, or at least tried to, keenly aware of the seconds that were ticking until they would be leaving.

               “Are you all right?” Rey asks as she turns to you suddenly. “You seem troubled.”

               Poe himself looks troubled as he turns to you, but you just shake your head. “No, I’m fine, really. Just sad that you’ll all be leaving so soon, is all.”

               They nod their heads in agreement, and it’s Finn who’s the first to push away from the table. “It’s true, we should check in with Leia and prepare for departure. But we can’t thank you enough for everything, really. I don’t know what happened in the past, but if there’s anything we can do to help in the future, just call on us and we’ll come.”

               “Thank you,” you say politely as Rey offers her thanks as well. “You two should be off. I don’t want to delay your departure longer than necessary. I just need to talk to Poe about something first.”

               “I’ll catch up with you guys later,” Poe agrees, and Finn and Rey share a look before they head out.

               “It means a lot that you get along so well with my friends,” Poe says suddenly as you turn to face him. “I don’t think that I’ve ever told you that, but I just thought that it’s important for you to know.”

               “That’s good,” you reply, nodding your head forward as you try to figure out what to say. Unfortunately, Poe interprets that as sadness at his departure, and quickly tries to comfort you.

               “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he tells you. “You know that I can’t promise when, but as soon as I can, I’ll come back. Even if it’s just a visit.” He winks at you. “Someone has to coordinate those supply runs, right?”

               “Poe, I have something to tell you,” you begin nervously. You don’t know how to phrase it in a way that won’t make him uncomfortable or even angry with you, and the more you realize this, the more your anxiety increases.

               “What’s wrong?” Poe asks, and you just shake your head as you take him by the hand and lead him back into the bedroom. He seems to misunderstand this action too, as he lets go of your hand to stand in the doorway. “I want to, believe me, but I just don’t know if I have time.”

               “You do,” you tell him quickly. “I spoke to Leia this morning. Sit down.”

               Poe quirks an eyebrow but obeys regardless. You feel at least slightly better with him sitting on the bed, and you begin to pace the room in front of him, your mind working frantically. “What’s wrong? Did something happen last night?”

               “No,” you say quickly. “No, things between us are fine. I just…I have to tell you something and I don’t think you’re going to like hearing it.”

               “What’s wrong?” Poe asks again. “Is it something I can help with?”       

               “You can,” you tell him as you turn to face him. “Basically the First Order has compromised the integrity of our exports. My ships are in disrepair and I don’t have as many adequately trained pilots as I used to. I need someone who is at least vaguely familiar with galactic trading networks in order to help get things back on track.”

               The line in Poe’s forehead shows that he’s taking you seriously, although you can’t tell if that was good or bad. True, you hadn’t been lying about the assistance that you needed, but you also knew that Poe wasn’t the sole candidate to help you.

               “I want to help,” he begins awkwardly. “But right now with the Resistance, I don’t know if I can spare the time.”

               “Leia said you could,” you say quickly, and the look Poe gives you shows you that this was the wrong thing to say almost immediately.

               “Wait, you talked this over with her?” he asks. “Without approaching me first?”

               You open your mouth and shut it again as you turn away. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “Yeah, I did.”

               “Why?” Poe doesn’t look angry, just confused, and maybe even a little hurt. At least that you could understand.

               “Because I need help,” you admit. “Not just with this, but with you. I know I can’t put a future with you first. I can’t, but I need you. I’m not okay. I’m not ready for you to just go off yet. Like you’ll have Rey and Finn and Jess and Snap and everyone else to keep you company. Who do I have here? Joran? Grax? It’s different, Poe. They’re staff. They’re advisors. They’re not friends. And don’t tell me that they could be because that’s not how this works. Being Queen is isolating and it’s unforgiving. I make one mistake and it’s all on my shoulders. Forever. And I don’t know if I can handle the pressure right now, I really don’t.”

               “Yeah, you can,” Poe says supportively. “I know that you want me to stay, but that should have been something that you discussed with me first.”

               “I know,” you admit as you turn away. “I know, I just don’t know what I would have done if you had said no.”

               “You thought I would have said no?” Poe asks, and he looks genuinely surprised.

               That triggered your surprise as well. “Well, what do you expect me to think?” you ask suddenly. “I hate how polarizing this is, I really do. I know you haven’t thought about it, but you can have a future with Leia and the Resistance or with me here on Draboon, but you can’t have both. I really don’t think so. Leia’s grooming you to take over the Resistance after her, and-”

               “Wait, she said that?” Poe asks, and he looks legitimately surprised.

               “No,” you say quickly. “No, she didn’t, but I mean, who else would take over? Either way, she would want you involved to carry out what she started. Even if the war ends, she’d want you to stay active, to try to restore peace in the galaxy, to prevent another war from happening, and probably other things I haven’t even thought of yet.”

               “And what about what I want?” Poe asks. “My mother spent her entire life fighting a war so that when the war ended she _could_ live it, and then she died before she really got the chance to live. I don’t want to make that same mistake.”

               The corner of your lip quirks up. “At least this way you can see what living on Draboon is like for yourself, so you know what you have to look forward to when you come back.”

               Poe nods, but crosses his arms over his chest, suddenly all business. “What is it you need me to do here?”

               “Um, look at my ships,” you tell him. “I need to make sure that any First Order modifications are _actually_ beneficial and I need someone to make sure they’re not tracking them in any way so they can attack them once they get out of range. I also need more pilots. I know you can’t spend weeks and weeks here to teach them, but just you know, the basics. Or teach people to teach them. Honestly, you know, whatever you think is best.”

               “That’s something that I can definitely do,” Poe says with a nod of his head. “I just wish you would have run that by me before you went to talk to Leia.”

               “I know,” you admit quietly. “I know. I really should have. I think one of the reasons I didn’t was because I was afraid of Leia saying no. I had to offer up more than I was planning on as it was.”

               Poe shakes his head as if he doesn’t understand, and you can’t help but grin a little. “Well, I need you, but then again, so does Leia. You’re the best pilot the Resistance has to offer. It seems your time and your skill set are extremely valuable, Poe Dameron.”

               Poe just grins as he takes your hand and kisses it. “So what am I worth to you?”

               “To Draboon,” you correct him. “I doubled the supplies.”

               Poe shifts uncomfortably. “Can you spare that?”

               You shrug your shoulders. “I mean, that depends. The sooner we get our usual trades back up and running again, we shouldn’t have too much of a problem getting back on our feet.”

               Poe tilts his head to the side in consideration. “Well we do need the supplies pretty badly right now, I’ll give you that.”

               “That’s not the only thing,” you begin softly as you shift uncomfortably. “I also was planning on giving them something else. For you.”

               “For me?”

               “ _Iris_ _One_ ,” you tell him. You’re at least a little bit pleased to see the look of surprise that crosses Poe’s face as he holds up his hands. At least that was the reaction you were expecting.

               “No,” he says quickly as he shakes his head from side to side. “No, no, no, I _can’t_.”

               “It’s yours, Poe,” you say gently. “You were the one who fixed her up after I left. You put all that effort into her, and with _Black One_ gone, you should be the one flying her.”

               Poe just shakes his head again. “But she’s yours. It’s _your_ ship.”

               “I know,” you say gently. “But I’m not going to be flying her around right now, Poe, I can’t. Even if the First Order does attack, I don’t think I should be the one up in the skies challenging them, and I don’t want it to just sit in my hangar collecting dust. Think of it as a loan, if you like. This way I know you’ll bring her back to me.”

               Poe’s lip draws up at the corner. “All right,” he says gently. “All right, if it’ll help you know that I’ll definitely come back to you, I think I can live with that.” His face suddenly turns serious. “And I know why you need me to stay, but I need you to know that I plan to take this seriously. I don’t have a lot of time to spend here, and as much as I would like to just spend it with you, your ships and your crew are going to be my priority.”

               “Draboon is going to be your priority,” you correct him. “Just as it is mine. But I like it. This way you’ll get to see what the people here are like. What the food is like. What living here is like. There’s a lot to Draboon beyond these castle walls, Poe.”

               “I know,” Poe says as his dark eyes flash. “And I want to see it all. When this war ends, I want this to be our home, I really do.” Maybe it was just reckless optimism, or maybe it was because you didn’t want to accept anything less, but you couldn’t help but believe him. “But first, is there anything I should know about living here? Any customs and rules that I should know before I meet people?”

               “I can take you into town later,” you tell him. “But one of the most important things is just to kneel when you see me whenever we’re in public. It’s kind of weird, but the people of Draboon take that _very_ seriously.”

               “You mean, like this, Your Majesty?” Poe asks as he slides off the bed and drops to his knees in front of you. You’re suddenly aware of how close he is to you, and you can’t help but feel your cheeks flush.

               “Yeah,” you reply, your voice suddenly breathless. “Something like that.”

               Poe holds your gaze for a moment before he leans forward and presses his lips against the fabric of your pants. He stays there for a moment, and you have to consciously resist the urge to buck your hips towards him.

               “Yeah, most people on Draboon don’t really do that, Poe.”

               “Oh?” Poe’s voice is low as he reaches up and tugs down the sides of your pants, letting them pool around your ankles as he leans forward and kisses you again. With no fabric in the way, he lets his tongue run along the curve of your clit, and you can’t help but shudder as you run a hand through his hair.

               “You like that?”

               “Mmhmm.”

               You can feel yourself getting breathless for him when Poe suddenly pulls away. He gets to his feet, jerking your pants up as he does so. You grab his arms incredulously, not sure if you were trying to restrain yourself from kissing him or preparing to throw him back onto the bed. “Um, Poe?”

               “Your Majesty.”

               “What the hell was that?”

               Poe just chuckles as he bends down and kisses your forehead, then your lips. “I may not be going with them, but I should at least see them off,” Poe tells you. “I need to tell Rey and Finn that I’m staying behind, at any rate, and they’re leaving any moment now.”

               “But…” You pout as you let a small whine rise out of the depths of your throat and glance between him and the bed.

               “Don’t worry,” Poe says as he leans down and kisses your forehead. “Once I’m done with them, you can show me all around Draboon. Then tonight I’m all yours.”

               “But…” You squirm uncomfortably, pedaling up and down on your toes. “Fine, go tell them, but you didn’t have to tease me first.”

               “Yes, I did,” Poe replies as he kisses your forehead again. “Because now when you overthink things, I know exactly what you’re going to be thinking about.”

               You blink for a moment as the realization hits you. Poe didn’t want you to doubt him. He didn’t want you to entertain these pessimistic thoughts, but he knew that it was where your mind would eventually go, especially while you were alone. But if he could keep your attentions diverted elsewhere, on perhaps more interesting thoughts…

               _Damn, he was good._

“I’m your Queen,” you insist as he heads for the doorway. “I can make you come back and fuck me if I want to.”

               “Oh, I know,” Poe replies over his shoulder. “You’ve been able to do that for a while now.”

               The door closes behind him and you stand there with your arms across your chest, blushing like crazy, trying to keep yourself from smirking. Just like that, he made you feel like that little girl who had a crush on him the first time she met him, the one who was innocent and good, with just a slight penchant for adventure.

               _Damn. He was_ very _good._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that ending, I'm sure you can all see where we've inevitably been headed for a while now...next week will be the final chapter. Thanks for sticking with me this long, and I hope you've enjoyed the ride!! ^_^


	37. Epilogue

               “And that’s all? What happened after that?”

               You pause as you struggle to think back and remember every last detail. Some parts were hazier than others, but overall you could never forget how Poe made you feel, and that was the most important part. His boundless optimism had put a warmth in your chest, in your heart, one that you knew you would never be able to forget.

               “He stayed for two weeks, like we talked about. The Resistance needed him, but the people of Draboon liked him. They appreciated what he could do and helped him feel at home here. That was the most important part of his visit, letting him leave knowing he had a home here to come back to where he was wanted.”

               “He really left?”

               “Well, he had to go fight,” you explain. “But he came back every now and again. He came back not long after my Coronation. I had to undergo The Trial in the jungle, just like L’ulo did decades ago, but the stone didn’t glow for me. It really freaked me out. It was only after I thought about Poe when the stone began to glow, and I thought about packing up and leaving Draboon to be with him right then and there.”

               “But you didn’t go?”

               “No, Joran sensed something was up and called me out on it when he saw how freaked I was. He actually called Poe back to talk some sense into me. I was definitely surprised to open my bedroom door to see him standing there, but I’m sure you can guess that that surprise was far from unpleasant.”

               “What about the Resistance?”

               “He still had his place there,” you admit. “Leia wasn’t a big fan of him dropping everything on a dime to see me, especially when he found out I had gotten married. Apparently, they were preparing for a huge assault on the First Order and he backpedaled out of it and put someone else in charge so he could fly back and confront me after he couldn’t reach him on the comms. To be fair, I couldn’t reach him either; this was right after the First Order had found a way to scramble transmissions, so the galaxy was in chaos for a while, not being able to communicate long distance.”

               “Wait, wait, wait, you loved him and you married someone else?”

               “Okay, like I told him, I was only married _in name_ ,” you say crossly, as if explaining it for the hundredth time. To be fair, you practically were. You had explained it to Poe a thousand times before, but you could understand both his anger and his confusion.

               _“Where is she?”_

_“General Dameron, if you-”_

_“No, I don’t have time for this.”_

_Poe jumps out of the cockpit, leaving_ Iris One _still hovering on the landing platform. He marches up to the castle, having frequented the planet often enough to know the secret corridor up to your room, reserved for him and him alone. You, however, had been walking out in the gardens, and couldn’t help but recognize the familiar flash of leather as you saw him walk by through the trees._

_“Wait, Poe?”_

_Poe whirled around and quickly made his way through the twisting courtyard to meet you at your location. His shoulders were tense, and he looked about as stern as you had ever seen him._

_“Poe, are you all right? What happened?”_

_“You tell me.” Poe spits the words at your feet. “You tell me, is it true?”_

_You blink and shake your head, not understanding. “What-?”_

_“Is it true?” Poe demands. “The communication systems have been on the fritz lately, but we heard that the Queen of Draboon had gotten_ married _. Is that wrong?”_

 _You can’t help but blush as you shuffle from one foot to the other. “Okay, technically, that’s not_ wrong, _but-”_

_Poe puts his hands on his head as he turns around, as if he can’t even bring himself to look at you. “When? Why?”_

_“Okay, Poe, this isn’t what you think.”_

_“Not what I think?” Poe demands as he whirls around to face you. “How can this be anything other than what I think? How can-?” His eyes dip down to see his mother’s ring still around your neck. “How can you be married when you’re still wearing that?”_

_“Because I’m not_ really _married,” you hiss excitedly to him. “Does the name Filvaro Kilvami mean anything to you?”_

_Poe blinks and tilts his head to the side, as if he had heard it before. “Vaguely.”_

_“He died,” you say quickly. “Years ago. He was the son of one of my mother’s Councilors, and he died trying to protect Draboon. The people love gossip, Poe, and it’s been years since you’ve been here. They expect me to be getting married. Remember, I told you before, that’s the drawback of royalty. My life is on display for them. My life, my drama, becomes their entertainment. What better way to instill drama than to say I married a war hero that fought valiantly to protect Draboon’s interests.”_

_Poe looks at you dubiously. “But he’s dead.”_

_“Right,” you say quickly. “But people don’t know that. Joran said we found him in the castle dungeons, hurt terribly, but alive. But he’s disfigured, which is why he doesn’t go outside. In a few months, I’ll say he passed away from whatever ills he suffered, and that’ll be that.”_

_Poe crosses his arms over his chest. “And you expect people to really believe that?”_

_“People believe what they want to believe,” you say with a shrug. “It’s just idle gossip, Poe. Enough to keep the people thinking about that, and not wondering why over half of our resources are going to you and a war they don’t want to be a part of.”_

_Poe drops his arms, and for once has the decency to look ashamed. “We are grateful for that, by the way.”_

_You just shake your head as you look him over. “Poe, did you really come all this way because you thought I married someone else and moved on?”_

_“No,” Poe says immediately, but he can’t bring himself to meet your gaze. “No, I just mean, I wasn’t sure what happened. I thought maybe someone was holding you hostage, and forced you to say…I don’t know.”_

_“You came here on a rumor,” you say appreciatively. “You heard a rumor that I got married and you dropped everything and ran here because you were jealous.”_

_“Woah, okay, I wasn’t_ jealous _,” Poe says quickly as he gnaws on his lower lip, and you can’t help but smile up at him in response._

_“Leia is going to be pissed when she finds out,” you say as you hit his arm lightly. “I hope you weren’t involved in anything important.”_

_“Yeah, um.” Poe shuffles uncomfortably from foot to foot. “I should probably be getting back, like now.”_

_“But you just got here.” You reach up to place a chaste kiss against his lips. “Can’t you stay at least one night?”_

_“I shouldn’t have even left,” Poe admits truthfully. “I just needed to make sure you were okay.”_

_“To make sure I was still yours,” you tease gently. “And I always am. I’m waiting here for you, remember?”_

_“I’ll be back soon,” Poe promises as he reaches forward to kiss you. It’s meant to be a quick kiss, but you wrap your arms around your neck as you pull him closer to you. “I do have to go, though.”_

_“I know,” you say quickly. “But you have at least ten minutes, don’t you?”_

_“Ten minutes?” Poe demands. “Do you know what could happen in ten minutes? The entire Resistance fleet could be eliminated because I wasn’t there to-”_

_“All right, all right,” you say as you wave him off. “Go, go. Go be a hero.”_

_Poe suddenly reaches down and kisses you deeply, channeling all of his love and affection for you into the one small point of contact between you. “Make it five.”_

“Eww, mom. Gross.”

               You can’t help but grin as you look down at her cobalt blue hair. It seemed lighter blue than yours, but maybe you had been that color blue when you were about five years old too. It wasn’t something you would probably be able to recall.

               “I was born shortly after that, wasn’t I?”

               “Well, not _shortly_. We’ve narrowed it down to probably about three or four different occasions where it could have happened.”

               “MOM. Stop.”

               “Relax, Shara, I wasn’t going to give you any details. I used to hate it when my mother said this to me, but you are far too young to understand things now.”

               “Oh, I think I understand plenty,” she says as she crosses her arms over her chest. “So when is dad coming back anyway?”

               “Pretty soon,” you say as you glance out the large window behind her. “He’s up there in the stars right now with Auntie Jess, signing a treaty that officially recognizes that the war is coming to an end so he can come back and live here with us.”

               Shara frowns, the knowing frown of a child who has heard vacant promises for far too long. “For real this time?”

               “For real,” you say firmly.

               “But what if another war happens?” Shara asks. “Or what if people want him to do stuff? You said he’s important. What if they can’t manage without him?”

               “Well with Finn officially leading the Resistance and Rey’s little Jedi Academy pupils helping him, I think they’ll manage all right.”

               Shara seems to relent a bit. “I miss Finn. He and Rey always bring the best presents when they come to visit.”

               “They’ll come back and visit soon,” you say gently as you look out the window again. The eternal blue sky was as still as ever. “Say, did I ever tell you the story about the time when Poe and I crash landed-?”

               “Like four times now,” Shara says as she rolls her eyes. “When I told you that I wanted to hear the story about how you and dad met, I wanted like a sentence. It’s been _hours_.”

               “You said you wanted to hear a story to pass the time until he got back,” you say as you gesture towards the window. “And he’s still not back yet. How about I tell you the story of the time Poe-?”

               “What’s that?” Shara runs to the window, and at first you think that it’s just a weak excuse to get you to stop telling your story, until you begin to see it too. Slowly, a white speck was descending from the sky, and you knew it could only be _Iris One._

Without warning, Shara streaks by you as she runs out to the landing pad, and you pause for a moment before you follow at her heels. She was a lot faster than you, and you emerge onto the landing pad just in time to see Poe rise from the cockpit.

               BB-8 gives a shrill greeting of excited beeps as Shara approaches, and Poe quickly jumps down to the cockpit to greet her.

               “There’s my little girl.” His stiff dress uniform creases as he bends down to pick her up, whirling her about in his arms. “Did you miss me?”

               “No,” she says flatly, and Poe just laughs. “Mommy spent all day telling me the story of how you met.”

               “Really?” Poe asks as he looks up, squinting in the blinding sunlight of Draboon’s setting sun to make you out across the platform. You quickly make your way over to him, trying and failing to wipe the lopsided grin from your face.

               “To be fair, she asked for it.”

               “I asked for a sentence,” Shara replies as Poe sets her down.

               You stand in front of him now, watching him bite his lower lip in nervous excitement. “I did it,” he says quietly. “We did it. It’s done. War’s over.”

               “So this is it, then?” you ask, trying desperately to reign in your excitement. “You’re home to stay now.”

               “Home to stay,” Poe replies as he reaches forward to kiss you. He wraps his arms around you and you lean into his chest as he deepens the kiss, running your hand through his wavy hair. You push years of desperation and longing and pining and nervous apprehension into the space between you, neither one of you daring to pull away.

               “Yuck,” Shara says from somewhere beside you. “Come on, BB-8. I want to show you what I did to my room. I put a bunch of stars on the walls and hung little model X-Wings from the ceiling, so every time daddy misses space, he can just come and visit me instead.”

               Poe chuckles as he finally pulls away, glancing over at them as they retreat into the castle. “Did she really?”

               “She might have had help,” you say with a smile. “She just wants her father, not General Dameron.”

               “The Second Galactic Concordance has been signed,” Poe reminds you. “War’s over. I’m not a General anymore.”

               “Oh?” you tease gently. “Then what am I supposed to call you then?”

               Poe smirks, remembering the first time he had told you to call him by his first name back on the Resistance base on D’Qar. So much had changed in that time. You had become a pilot. You had become a smuggler. You had fought in a war. You had become Queen of Draboon. Its people were prospering, and you knew you would have made your mother proud. The war was over, the fighting was done, and Poe was finally home to make your family complete. If there was ever a time to put the worry and burdens of the past behind you, it was right now. It was time to embrace a fresh start and look ahead to an optimistic, peaceful future. Together.

               “Just call me Poe.”

               “All right,” you reply, and you can’t help but gnaw on your lower lip as you nod your head forward in a series of quick, excited nods. It wasn’t the first time you had said his name, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last, but you still can’t help but say his name again, just to taste it for yourself.

_“Poe.”_

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short little send off to the story, but I hope that you've enjoyed it regardless! A few people have asked me to about the possibility of doing "one-shots" from different characters' perspectives and I don't plan to do it as a series or anything but I might do a few if people have specific requests. If you click the subscribe button at the top, it'll shoot you an email when I update so you don't have to keep checking back.
> 
> Otherwise, that's it, folks!! I hope you enjoyed the story!! Cheers and the best of luck in your future fanfic travels here and in a galaxy far, far away!! <3


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